Blast Heart
by Raine Leonhart
Summary: Mankind struck him down and brought him back up. What he did now was up to him... and maybe her as well.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I need to start including "A/N" for my author notes. Skimming over my older stuff and reading my notes without it makes me feel like I've just been interrupting my writing all the time.

This is something new I have had in my mind since early August, in which I am trying to make last many chapters without half-assing the romance or the ending or everything in between. Actual, decently-lengthed _plot_ that will most likely not include any action, because I can't do action, and this story isn't very action-y if at all. Stuff will happen (obviously) and that is all I can tell you.

... Yeah, not half-assing is going to be hard.

**_x x x_**

It wasn't the first time Raven woke up in a room he was unfamiliar with - he got his share of that sometime during the Great War (or was it at the end of it?), when he would wake up coughing with a burning fire in his chest. Men in white had prodded at him and shone lights into his eyes, and if he didn't pass out from the pain, they'd give him something horribly_ nasty_ and bitter to drink.

Or maybe it was all the needles putting him to sleep: little prickling sensations in his arms that pinched when he was awake long enough to control his limbs, if only for fifteen seconds.

He remembered voices - fuzzy, discrete, and incomprehensible with a loud hum in the background and an occasional _beep, beep_, that sliced thickly through the air like water through cheese. There was a screen and lines - he... couldn't see any blastia? He couldn't tell, it was all a blur - and a hard, steely, wine-coloured gaze on him that chilled him to the bone every time time he saw it.

But this was hardly anything like that because... well...

This was the first time Raven woke up in an unfamiliar room, warm, topless, and tied to a bed.

And he wasn't entirely sure whether that was good or bad.

Closing his eyes, Raven breathed in deeply through his nose and counted to ten. Last he knew, he was in one of the bars in Halure. Maybe he passed out and was having some kind of weird, kink-dream involving busty women and lots of bondage? Or something along the lines of that, where people weren't freaked out by his blastia. Oh, how he wished that was the situation!

He opened his eyes.

... Nope, nothing changed.

With another deep breath, he closed his eyes again. How much did he have to drink last night? Did he get plastered and go home with a woman, only to reveal his blastia and have her tie him up and run away? He winced. That sounded like a _pretty_ bad situation. Hopefully she wouldn't return with a frightened mob with pitchforks and torches, calling him a monster and such.

_Four hundred ninety-eight, four hundred ninety-nine, five hundred._

His eyes opened and he stared in disappointment at the same textured ceiling from moments ago. Damn. He tugged on the fabric that held his wrists - nope, those knots were pretty tight and well done, did a knight do that? - and tried to move his legs. Couldn't free those either. A closer inspection of the material made the rusty cogs in his brain creak.

Was that a scarf or a sash?

Raven was beginning to feel a _little_ self conscious, even though no one else was in the room. Having his chest exposed made him feel like panicking _just_ a little, never mind the fact that he was _tied up_ in an unfamiliar place. Exhaling out his nose, he shook his head slowly lifted it to scan the room.

There was a small bathroom over in the corner - in the mirror, he could see it had a shower-bath - useful for guests, useless when they were tied up. There were even books on the washroom _counter_! How many books could a person _have_?

There wasn't much else to the room except for pale green curtains, a desk, and a large bookshelf crammed full. He tried to focus on the titles, but they blurred and his head pounded, so he dropped his head back down onto the soft, cushiony pillow with a groan lodged in his throat.

He was desperately hoping that those were books on romance, or cookbooks or something, because if they were all about blastia... well...

He was either screwed or _really_ screwed. And there was a difference, because if he was screwed, maybe he wouldn't feel bad about ripping his bindings and running away.

But if he was _really_ screwed-

Distinctly, he could hear voices outside of the room - two, maybe three? - female voices, speaking in a hushed tone. Raven strained his ears, listening carefully.

"- notes. Whatever you can find would be helpful. I know there are some things he didn't..." The voice paused for a few seconds. "Up on Mount Temza? Okay, if you don't mind, I think that would help a lot, thanks."

The floorboards creaked and footsteps passed by the door.

"-stelle, do you know where the rest of Alexei's notes are? When Yeager... and his notes cut off after this page, see?" There was a loud shuffle of papers. "... so I'm sure the rest of it's hidden somewhere, like the castle, or maybe even up on Mount Temza with..."

Raven grimaced a little as they disappeared down a set of stairs. The sound of a door opening and closing in the distance hardly registered in his ears.

_Goodbye, busty babes and kinky sex._

Better start thinking up what to say in his will now, or...

No, he wouldn't have the time for that. Maybe he'd just beg for his life to be spared...

Slowly, softly, the doorknob began to turn. Raven looked up as a brunette head poked curiously through between the door and the frame. He lifted an arm to wave at her, only to have it jerk to a stop after an inch or two.

"Uh... Hey there, sunshine." He tried to grin, but she just glared and opened the door wider with her back, walking in with a plate and a cup in her hands. "Mind tellin' me what I'm doin' tied up here? Unless... well, I didn't know you were into that kinda stuff, Rita, but I'm-"

She cut him off by letting the plate clatter loudly on the desk, then picked up his shirt and jacket and threw it over his chest. She moved on to untie his ankles without a word. Raven stared blankly at her for a few seconds as deft hands swiftly untied the knots. He was expecting rage and yelling and lots of fire, not... whatever this was. As she freed his arms, he sat up slowly and swung his legs over the bed, rubbing his wrists. Hm, they didn't even chafe. What were those things made of - silk? "Uh, thanks-_!_"

She gave his face a resounding slap, and he stared at her in shock, dazed, with a hand up to his cheek. She was glaring, but where was the yelling? The threat of a fireball, or a punch, or anything? Not even a warning of '_next time, I'll castrate you_'?

He watched silently as she retrieved the cup from the desk.

"Here," she thrust it in his face. The greenish, murky liquid sloshed around inside. "Drink this," she commanded. Raven accepted the cup but gave her a look as if to say _'what is it?_' "It's tea, you moron. It's supposed to make your head feel better. Just drink it."

Raven sniffed it and took a sip, making a face, but Rita's stare made him down the rest in one, two gulps. As he stuck out his tongue at the taste, she took the cup from his grasp and stepped towards the desk. Then, she just... stopped. No sound of the cup being put down, no sudden explosive combustion, no raining apocalyptic Ritas...

"Uh... Rita darlin'," Raven stared at her back nervously, throbbing cheek and pounding headache forgotten. Her foot was tapping - sharp and precise. _Tmp. Tmp. Tmp._ "Yer not... mad at me are ya?"

There was a loud _thump_ of porcelain meeting wood. "Mad?" It sounded almost like an innocent question. Rita's back was still facing him. "Why would I be mad?" He opened his mouth, noted that her foot stopped tapping, then considered his safety and shut it. "Did you think I'd be mad at you for disappearing from the planet for _over a year_?"

Her voice was quiet and even with a sharp edge to it, and he winced.

"Did you think I'd be mad after telling you to check up with me every one to two months, only to have you stop showing up?"

He couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "You said it would be fine and that there wouldn't be anymore problems!-"

She swivelled around, hands on her hips, leveling him with another glare. "_Maybe_ wouldn't be anymore problems. If you kept showing up, _maybe_ could have already become _most likely_, or even _definitely._" She stalked up to him and poked a finger in his chest, hard. "Did you think I'd be _mad_ after every time your name popped up, _Dahngrest, Capua Nor, Zaphias, Aurnion, Mantaic_, only to have you _gone_ by the time I got there? Everywhere I went and not even a single _glimpse_ of your stupid purple jacket? And everyone I asked had absolutely _no idea whatsoever_ where the hell you were going!"

She emphasized each question with a sharp poke. Raven gulped, staring into eyes that were a startlingly brilliant shade of green. Her hair smelled nice, too, kind of like fire lilies- _Too close_! Back up, Raven, back up!

_Man down!_

Rita leaned forward, pressing against the bed and in between his legs. Whether she didn't notice or didn't care, he didn't know. She jabbed her finger into him again harshly as he tried to lean back. "And then yesterday, _you_ show up unconscious, reeking of alcohol outside the tavern in the rain _even though_ it's still unclear how stable your blastia really _is!_"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He cried out, bringing his hands up in his defense and cowering behind them. "I didn't mean to- I just- I had unfinished business that I had to- there was a lot of- please don't kill me- I'm sorry!"

There was a long moment of silence as Rita stood straight and crossed her arms, scrutinizing him for an eternity. He dared to open an eye a crack, just for a peek of his impending doom to see how it would end.

Surprisingly, her lips crept up in a hint of a proud, victorious (and yet somehow muchly irate) smirk and she let out a snort. "Well, whatever." She turned around, waving an arm in the air. "You have a bathroom; do whatever you need to do. There's a sandwich here if you're hungry - if you're not going to eat it, put it in the fridge. If you run away again, I'll find you, and I'll kill you. Got it?" He nodded. "Good. When you're done, I'll be in one of the rooms downstairs. I _expect_ you to come see me."

"... So," he started as she began to leave. She paused in the doorway, a hand on the frame. He flinched as he spoke, thinking that he was about to induce his own demise. "... Yer not gonna blast me inta little bits n' pieces?" Her shoulders looked tense, but he wondered if it was just him waiting for that one explosive fireball.

She didn't even turn.

"... I guess not, old man." It was soft and quiet, but firm all the same. She stepped forward and let the door shut with a gentle _click_.

Raven rubbed the back of his neck in contemplation. There was something... _off_ about Rita. Maybe he'd pushed past her limit of tolerance? Or maybe staying away from her for over a year wasn't quite such a good idea. She didn't even yell at him or raise a hand at him (that slap _totally_ didn't count), or threaten him with mutilation for running without a care in the world for the little rock he had for a heart (except he totally _did_ care).

And maybe it was the lighting, or maybe he just hadn't seen her in such a long time, but she looked paler than he remembered.

He stared at the floor, furrowing his brow. Come to think of it, she _did_ say something about him being passed out in the rain yesterday - but then did she drag him all the way here by herself, getting soaked to the bone? Maybe she had someone to help her... right?

Dammit, now he was feeling pretty guilty.

Hopping off the bed and tugging on the shirt covering his blastia - was it just his imagination, or was the light almost just a bit of a glow now? - and walked into the bathroom distractedly. Maybe he'd give her another apology later...

_x_

As the door clicked shut behind her, Rita crossed her arms, standing still. Her blood hummed loudly, demanding that she hit something, someone, and that she do it _now_.

_Easy, Rita. Relax,_ she told herself, though it didn't help much at all. Behind her, she heard soft, padded footsteps, before a door closed and the sound of rushing water filled the air. Shaking her head, Rita dropped her arms and walked down the stairs. She had more important things to think of than some half-naked idiot who was probably using her shower.

Things like finally determining how stable his blastia was and how to make the connection between his and Yeager's. Raven had been dead when his heart had been replaced, but Yeager had been _alive_, though whether he was healthy or on his death bed she didn't know.

Rita stumbled through an open door, rubbing her temple. Grabbing a pile of scrambled papers, she sat down on the rug and leaned on a bookshelf, flipping through the sheets, deep in thought. The notes mentioned electricity a few times, somehow working with blastia and muscle groups. Apparently, they brought Raven back to life using the electricity created by certain types of blastia. How did his Hermes blastia and the energy react together? How many times did Alexei have to attempt this on other people before they finally managed to get successful reactions?

And how did a living person like Yeager stay alive between the replacing of his heart and the blastia?

... If Estelle's own powers were a direct variation of the Rizomata formula, maybe there was a connection? Something between biological and unliving things? Especially the randomly mixed similarities in Raven's formula and the actual string of...

Wait... maybe...!

Rita shuffled the papers rapidly, ideas running wildly in her head. All those equations in Raven's blastia that had been derived from the Rizomata were jumbled. If she could just figure out the original coding, maybe she could finally complete the conversion process, making his blastia fully functional and able to work without running on aer...!

She scanned this sheet, then the next, checking over the front and back and the little dog-eared corners as her mind raced anxiously. Maybe, just _maybe_ _this one_-

The notes cut off at the end of the page.

Her hands tightened, crumpling the edges, and the papers crinkled in protest.

_Damn_ that Alexei! She fumed through her nose, grinding her teeth. Where the _hell_ were his notes when she needed them?

Rita slammed a fist down on her thigh, then rubbed her forehead irritatedly, exhaling. She needed to calm down and sort out her thoughts, first...

Maybe there was a connection: bodhi blastia didn't _provide_ magical powers, only strengthened them - made them more prominent. Someone who could maybe create a campfire with blastia, and didn't use it often, could only light a candle without it.

Those who _did_ hone their skills or magic didn't lose all that much, though _a little_ more work was needed for the stronger spells like _tidal wave_ and _meteor storm_. But Rita had no problems with that, because success needed hard work, and half-assing got you nowhere.

So maybe Raven wasn't _entirely_ dead during the procedure?

... But then what did they _do_ to bring him back to life? Or... keep him alive? Whichever one it was.

If only she could figure out how Hermes' worked with the Rizomata formula, and how Alexei worked it all together on a living person. Maybe she'd finally be able to completely...

No, she was going in circles. That wasn't helping at all.

Quietly, the door creaked open behind her. Rita whipped her head back to see Raven poke his head in between the doorway.

He brought up his hand in a two-finger salute. "Howdy there," he grinned awkwardly. "How's it going?"

She flapped an apathetic hand at him. "Don't just stand there- come inside already and sit down."

He gave the room a glance and opened the door wider, shutting it behind him as he stepped in cautiously. A window with yellow curtains, a calendar on the wall, a huge bookshelf (make that two, one at each wall), a book-covered bed (actually, books everywhere), a desk, and a kitty-bomb named Rita sitting on an oval red- and green-ringed fluffy rug. It looked like it made for cozy seating, but...

He opted for the desk's chair instead, pulling it out and draping himself on its back. Outside, the sun shone brightly through clear skies, signaling that it was sometime around noon. He yawned hugely. "So what's new?"

"You're an idiot, for one, but that's old." She rolled her eyes, scanning over the papers in her hands one last time before putting them down. She wasn't going to get much done when they weren't complete, anyway. "I managed to sort out most of what was left unfinished with your blastia - surprisingly there aren't any signs of misuse or damage," she gave him a sharp glance, crossing her arms, "and there aren't any problems with the conversion formula I set the last time you were here... but that one's not a surprise." She smirked up at him confidently.

That was just like her, cutting right to business and not about normal life. Raven blinked down at her. "So... I'm all good? After one night and you figure I'm entirely fit as a fiddle?"

She lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "That's pretty much it, but it's not entirely complete yet. I just need the rest of Hermes' and Alexei's notes before I can put together the final pieces of what will make you live to be an even older blockhead." She lifted a finger. "Also, you're now around seventy to eighty percent more aer-efficient."

"Hm..." He rested his chin on his forearm, looking at her. "So how much longer till this thing can run on its own?"

"I honestly don't know. Like I said, I need the complete sets of notes before I can fit the puzzle pieces together, and even then I'll have to add more of my own equations to the whole thing."

He raised an eyebrow incredulously. "What? You can add yer own stuff just like that without things goin' wrong?"

"I don't see why not," the shoulder lifted again. "That's what I've been doing whenever I had to work on you, besides rearranging the core's data."

"And yer not worried about... y'know, blowin' it up ta pieces?"

"I've been working with blastia all my life," she glared up at him. "You should give my work more credit, old man."

He scratched his cheek. "Well, it's not really that, y'see. I'm not really worried about whatcha do to this little ticker, cause you're Rita Mordio, Genius Mage of Aspio." He waved his arm in exaggerated enthusiasm and she rolled her eyes. "I'm just wonderin' if ya ever worry about the stuff ya do. Like... if it'll ever go wrong, or somethin' like that."

Rita stared at the cover of one of the books lying beside her. _Functions of the Heart_. "No," she started slowly, distracted, shaking her head and pushing the book away with a foot. "It's useless to worry about stuff like that. Especially if I always check my work twice. Worrying about it would just waste my time."

"Hm..." Raven stroked his chin, glancing at the calendar. _March_. There were scribbles of little notes and meetings she had to attend. One day had been circled three times with a red marker, the words "_Rita's 19th Birthday!_" written in flowery writing, "i"s dotted with hearts.

Wait...

"Rita, hun-" she bristled, "what day is it today?"

"... It's the twenty-first." She eyed him skeptically. "Why?"

He gaped at her, aghast. "... You mean, you dragged my keister all the way home on your _birthday_? In the rain?"

All she did was shrug. "It's no big deal."

"No, but I- your _birthday_, girl! That's an important day!"

"Like I said, it's no big deal."

Raven sighed with a loud _augh_, ruffling his hair with one hand. "No, it is a big deal. Look, I'm sorry fer runnin' off fer a long time like that an' makin' you worry about me-" he ignored the glare. Her? Worried? Don't be _silly._ He continued earnestly, "and fer makin' you drag me here and gettin' ya sick in the process. And fer missin' your birthday, too. 'm sorry."

Rita blinked at him, partially speechless. "It's... nothing, really, don't worry about it. And I'm not si-" she paused for a split second before Raven, who obviously wasn't listening to her, clapped his hands together.

"I know!" He grinned at her. "I'll take ya out drinking! Now that yer nineteen, you're old enough to take your pick at the local bar!" He leaned in like he was telling her a secret with a hand up to his mouth. "An' we can finally figure out what kinda drunk you are. Happy? Sad? Violent? Or are you the flirty, horny typ-!"

Book, meet Face. Face, Book.

"No thanks," she said, tossing the book haphazardly on the floor beside her. _Thermodynamics of Aer_. She wrinkled her nose. "Alcohol smells gross anyway."

"That stuff's an acquired taste, milady." If she was trying not to look cute, she sucked at it. "Ya can't just chug it down on the first go and think you'll like the taste right away. There's aaaall kinds of drinks out there callin' out ta ya, cryin' "_drink me, drink me!_" but nooo, you're Rita Mordio, too high n' mighty to give it a taste cause y'think it _smells_ a little."

She gave him an exasperated glare and he snickered. "All right, all right, I'm just teasin' ya, my little kitty cat~! No alcohol fer you, then." He glanced at the calendar again. "But I gotta do somethin' ta make up fer it, y'know? I can't letcha look at me and think I'm the guy who ruined yer nineteenth all the time!"

She raised an eyebrow as if to say '_are you stupid?_' "I said it's fine. Normally I'd be too busy to remember what day it was, anyway, and Estelle and Judith made me go out with them, so it's not like I did nothing. Seeing you again is good enough for a birthday present."

Raven wondered if she heard his blastia hum a little in his split-second of a pause before he gave her a seductive grin. "Why, Rita, I didn't know you felt that away about me!"

Rita went red. "Not like that, you idiot! I meant that it means you didn't waste all that time I spent working on your blastia, moron! If you went and died because of a malfunction, that means _I_ did something _wrong_, and I'd bring you back to life and kill you again!" She threw her hands up in mortification. "Augh, piss off!"

"Nice ta know you care," he drawled, still draped on the chair. The damn thing was _comfortable_. Too bad for her, but he wasn't moving anywhere. "What about the others? Didn't Yuri and Karol come give you a _spectaculartastic_ day?"

She rubbed her face with one hand, tugging off a pen and the pocketbook clipped onto her shirt. "They had guild things to do back in Dahngrest."

"Right, right, I think I heard that from Harry a while ago." He flapped the sleeves of his coat together, watching her tap the end of the pen on her lower lip three times. "Why hasn't Yuri gone and proposed to the princess yet? I figured he'd have done _something_ by now."

She scribbled something down rapidly and snapped it shut. "... I think he's waiting for all those old farts from the Council to drop like flies and be replaced by people who actually have some sense in them. Even if he does all that crap with Ioder's title offer, they're going to find a way, someway, somehow, to make all his efforts useless while they're still alive." She shrugged. "It might happen soon or a couple years from now. Who knows?"

"Huh." Was all Raven said. She had a point; he'd never bothered to think too much about that.

Thanks a lot, Schwann, _First Captain of the Imperial Knights_, for your wonderful, unshared insight on relationships between royalty and common-born people. You were a big help. Really.

"... So where are Estelle and Judith now? Thought I heard you talkin' ta them this morning..."

"They left before I came up and untied you." She said, patting her head to fiddle with her goggles. They weren't there. Damn. Where were they?

Oh yeah, she lost them somewhere in the house a few days ago... "They had stuff to do elsewhere, so I just asked them for a couple of things while they were there."

"Oh, so what, yer gonna tie me up every night to make sure I don't run away again? Until they come back here?"

"No!" She scowled, blushing. "I only did that because I figured you might run off again!"

A laugh bubbled out of his lips. "That's still pretty kinky if ya ask me-"

"Shut up!" She groped around for something, _anything_ to throw at him. She picked up a book, weighed it, then let it drop back down. It wouldn't do much damage with his arms blocking his face like that. The heavy _thump_ it made with the ground was satisfying enough, anyway. "I'm going to the castle in a week or two, anyway, and you're coming along with me whether you like it or not!"

He snickered again. "Relax, don't worry, I'll go with ya and escort you like a gentlemanly prince - even though I'm not really a prince, but I'm close enough." He gave her a thumbs-up before she scoffed at him. She scratched at her cheek - her damn hair was tickling her face again, and she didn't have her goggles to hold it back.

He watched her, eyes softening for a minute as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and furrowed her brow in thought. The last time he saw her had been roughly one year ago, and now she-

Then, just like that, he slapped his hands down on the wood with a grin as she jumped. "Hey, tell you what, I'll get outta yer hair for a while and make you somethin' ta eat. Like... lunch, or a birthday cake or somethin', and you can do some more thinkin' while I'm at it, since you like it so much. Yeah?"

She glanced askew at him before her stomach gurgled. She blushed faintly. "... Yeah, sure, thanks."

With a great stretch, Raven hoisted himself off the chair and toward the exit. He heard shuffling behind him, and just as the door was mostly closed, she spoke up. "... Hey."

"Hm?" He looked over his shoulder to see her standing. She scratched the back of her head, pink staining her cheeks. Her mouth opened, then shut, pink cheeks darkening.

"... Thanks for not being dead," she finally ground out, tersely.

If he were anyone else, he might not have heard the message.

_Welcome back_, loud and clear.

"It's good to be back." He said softly, smiling at her.

And as he shut the door behind him, he rubbed his collar tiredly with one hand, smile faltering. He closed his eyes, face twisting into a cruel, mocking smirk.

A year wasn't long enough at all.

**_x x x_**

A/N: All that petal-counting Raven did for Sicily worked out for the best, eh? Also, the drinking age where I live is nineteen, so Rita is now legally able to consume alcohol in here. Also don't know when her birthday is, so I just slapped down what I thought was a spring-y day. It was either March or May, but I liked March better.

Also, did you see my little face-book pun there? It was totally unintentional. I didn't even realize it until after I typed it up.

Most of this was completed maybe a week ago. I had to do some tweaking, though, because it just needed it. For now, I have the whole storyboard/plot planned out in my head, even future events that will probably happen in future chapters. Like, say, _the end_, and bits of the middle and in between those two as well.

Now I just need to figure out how to go about things while writing them out.

Thanks for reading, and for all reviews! Now I just need to stop talking so much in all my author notes.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL READERS. I LOVE YOU. YOU ARE WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL PEOPLE.

It has been a month, yes? I think. I bring forth chapter 2, and hope that it meets at least some of your expectations from me. If not, I apologize; I did pull parts of this out of my ass, after all.

But before that (okay, you can just skip this and start reading already), I would like to tell you all how much I appreciate the reviews I have been given - and possibly will be given - because I read them and then I just want to go FDJKSAHGKLDSNAIUN and hug you lots. I feel guilty for never replying to reviews (I think I haven't done that since maybe my pre-Vesperian era) so from now on, I will _try_ to reply with comments or just a thanks or something. And I will take these extra steps _because I care_.

I'm also trying very hard not to just slap you all in the face with the main plot, put on my troll face, and say, _PROBLEM?_

**_x x x_**

It wasn't even five minutes before Rita heard a loud yelp and the sound of things falling.

With a sigh, she gave up reading and left her book open on the floor. Just as she stood up, there was another collection of noises.

If she was right, and she just _knew_ she was, then knowing Raven...

Her footsteps thudded softly on the wooden floors as she made her way towards the kitchen, counting off little tasks to do in her head. She had books to find in the guest room upstairs - the one Raven had woken up in - so that she could store them in her room. She didn't want him nosing through specific titles, not that they were _bad_ or anything, just... important. For her research.

Very important.

Leaning on the frame of the archway between the kitchen and the living room, Rita folded her arms and crossed her ankles with a raised brow. Raven sat on the floor with a hand in his hair, back facing her; books littered around him and in his lap.

"Having fun, I see?" Rita snorted humourously when he jumped at her voice.

"Uh..." He turned his head to look at her. "Absolutely _fantabulous_, my dear girl. Done your studyin' already? I haven't even figured out what to make yet!" Raven stretched his legs out, letting books fall off as he rested them on others. If she cared how he treated her things, she didn't show it - probably because that was how she treated her books sometimes, too. "By the way, where do you keep yer cookin' stuff?" He added with a jerk of his chin, as if sitting in a pile of books on the tiled floors of a kitchen was one of his favourite pastimes.

"Obviously they're in the top cupboards, old man." She retorted sarcastically, eying the two open sets of wooden cupboards above the granite countertop. She bent down to pick up a book by her feet. "Especially considering how tall I am; why would I put them any lower?"

"Right, right. I shoulda' known," he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. He stretched over and opened another pair of knobbed handles beside the oven to find some _actual_ cookware. "Yep. That's it right there." He nodded conclusively to himself.

Rita waited for ten seconds, but he didn't move. "Well?"

"Hm? Oh yeah. Food comin' right up!" He hopped to his feet and looked at the ground. "Or... maybe after I help ya clean this stuff up." He bent over to pick up the fallen tomes.

Watching him, it took Rita five seconds to realize she was now staring at his butt. Oops. At least she wasn't _thinking_ anything- augh._ Shut up._

She gave it a kick, then moved to help put away the books as he jumped and looked at her as if she'd suddenly transformed into a mass of dancing polwigles. "I don't appreciate having ass in my face, old man." She said, rolling her eyes.

"Well then, my genius mage, don't look! It's that simple, really." He put a stack on the counter. "But then again, I don't see why you can't appreciate it. I _do_ have a cute butt, if I may say so myself." He winked at her. Rita just gave an '_ugh_' and piled up more books.

"There is seriously something wrong with your brain." She muttered. Up went a second pile onto the counter.

"Oh, come now, don't be so mean." Raven chuckled. Third pile. "I mean, you didn't deny it, right- _ow!_"

"That doesn't even deserve a response, you idiot." She waved a book threateningly in the air. "Just... put these back up in the cupboards. You're tall enough, you do it all. It's your fault they fell down anyway."

"Hey, that's not fair!" He complained, looking up at the empty space. "How'd these all fit in there, anyway? Is it some kinda magic cupboard thing?"

"How could it be magic, you idiot?" She scoffed, sitting down on top of the kitchen table. "It's just a cupboard. Don't ask me how they fit in there, I just shoved them all in."

"So then that means it was actually _your_ fault for them falling on me when I opened the doors, then!" She glared, and he put his hands up. "Okay, okay, my fault. Just gimme a sec." Rita watched as he placed the books in the shelves neatly.

Huh. So he could do things in an orderly fashion after all. Must have been the knight training. It made sense, considering how many sticks Schwann had shoved up his ass.

... Forget sticks, he had an entire splintering _branch_ up there. Maybe even a mace.

"That's the last of it!" He exclaimed proudly, pushing the last book in and shutting the door. "Now you won't have ta worry yer pretty little head about all those paper bricks fallin' on ya when you open em."

"Not bad, old man," she said. "Looks like you can put stuff away properly for once."

"Pfffft," he blew out, moving to open the fridge door. "I'm a master of all things tidy an-" It was mostly empty except for a pitcher of juice and a couple of wrapped sandwiches. "... The hell, Rita?"

"What?"

"You've got _nothing_ in here! A growin' girl's s'pose ta eat more n' just a couple sandwiches, you know." He picked one up and waved it in the air. "How'm I supposed ta make stuff ta eat if ya don't have anything?"

"Oh, right." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I forgot - I need to go shopping sometime."

He gaped at her. "You for- geez, Rita! And you think _I'm_ careless." He shook his head, putting the food back and shutting the door. "I know you're busy and all, 'specially with makin' electricity work all over the place - yer house, too, 's just full of it - but you need to eat somethin' else. C'mon, let's go."

Rita just stared at him skeptically. "Go? Go where?"

He lifted his hands up in exasperation. "Where else? To the market! We need to get you some real food!" He pulled her by the arm off the table - she stumbled, but didn't fall - and started dragging her out of the kitchen. "Get yer shoes on and yer keys and whatever; I need my wallet. Where's my wallet?" He felt the pockets of his pants. Empty. He turned to face her. "Where's my wallet?"

"Uh..." Rita didn't know why she let herself be dragged around, but she did anyway. "It's probably in your bag upstairs. It was by the bed, remember?"

"Right!" He snapped his fingers. "You get yer stuff and I'll go get mine. Be back in a sec." He winked and dashed up the stairs.

... What the hell, Rita thought as she went to the shoe rack by the front door. Her boots lay in a crumpled heap, and as she finished putting them on - brown boot over white stocking, long striped boot over long striped stocking - and grabbed her key, Raven thumped his way down the stairs.

"Ready to go?" He asked, opening the door for her. Another one of Schwann's traits, perhaps?

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She walked past him and waited for him to come out as well before sliding the key in and twisting it.

"... Y'know, your place looks small from the outside, but it's _huge_ on the inside." He spread his arms widely apart before he turned around and began walking in a random direction. "By the way, where's the market area from here?"

Rita rolled her eyes, walking in the opposite direction. "Wrong way, idiot."

"I knew that!" He trailed after her, hands in his pockets. "It's not my fault you live in a place where it's easy ta get lost in..."

"'Easy to get lost in,' my ass, old man." She retorted. "Halure is easier to navigate through than the Zaphias Castle."

"Oh come on, it's not _that_ bad in there!" He defended. "It just... winds around... a little." It sounded more like he trying to convince himself rather than trying to convince her.

"It's a maze where all the hallways, intersections, and corners look exactly the same! It's designed to screw with your mind." She turned a corner.

"Nahh, you just need ta get used to it. You can figure out the subtle differences if ya stay there for a little while."

"Oh really?" She stretched it out. "For how long?"

"Oh, I dunno... couple years, maybe?"

Rita rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "A _little while_."

"Yep." He pursed his lips in a smile, watching as she patted her head for something that wasn't there. "Oh yeah, so how's all this electricity business been so far? I mean," he added thoughtfully, "yer house has lights and everything, and when I was in Dahngrest they were usin' light bulbs at the tavern."

"They've already got electricity there? Good." She crossed her arms in thought. "So far, everything's going smoothly, so if things keep up, we'll have all the major towns powered by the end of either next year or the one after."

"Lot different from usin' blastia, huh?" He remarked.

"... Yeah, kind of." She rubbed her collar. "All of a sudden people in places like the Lower Quarters of Zaphias are getting installations done in, like lights that turn on at the flick of a switch, and they're making such a big deal about it..." Her lips twitched up slightly, lost in thought. "It's not so bad, knowing that what we've all been doing is making everyday life a little bit more easy for everyone."

Raven watched the gentle _almost_-smile flit by on her face-

Then in an instant, it was gone, and Raven had to wonder if he was imagining things or not.

"So essentially it's still almost the same as using blastia, only a little more accessible for the people who _really_ need it. Actually, it was already in use for some of the more minor things like clocks and watches. Blastia aren't- _weren't_ small or common enough to be used by so many people for frequent everyday life..." She rested an elbow in her hand, tapping her cheek. "But people are starting to make a lot of new appliances that rely on electricity, so we've been trying to devise a new system to generate enough continuous energy." She threw her hands up in the air. "Augh. If only I could just make the whole "negotiation" crap faster, I'd have everything done by the end of this year. It's a shame I can't hit those idiots, really."

"You're a speedy little worker, aren'tcha?" He grinned.

"I don't have the time not to work fast," she answered. Leave it to her to have boring answers. "Those weedy guys in the empire's Council of Mages are just too finicky and old, complaining about this and that and slowing me down all the time."

"Busy little bee," he whistled.

"Shut up."

"Yes'm."

_x_

Rita wasn't exactly what one would call the most 'experienced' shopper. Years of living alone had taught her that if it didn't have mold or slime on it, didn't smell funny, and had a cheap price, it was fine to eat. If the apples were a little bruised, so what? A little bit of brown wasn't going to kill her. If the meat she bought was tough and chewy, it didn't matter, it was going into her stomach.

Salted foods got washed down with water, grains were stored in a dry corner, fruits and vegetables were eaten quickly so they wouldn't spoil. Herbs and spices were too expensive - why spend so much on_ that_ when she could save up to buy books and tools?

Rita picked up a nectarine at a vendor's fruit stall, thumb rubbing over it absently, searching for signs of softness. She preferred it when they were ripe, but not overly ripe - just enough to be sweet and still have that satisfying _crunch_ when she bit into it. Raven watched from behind as she felt the fruit up for two seconds before putting it down and grabbing others - how could she tell which ones were good and which ones weren't if she didn't check it?

He plucked one from her hands - she already had five! - and gently applied pressure on it with a thumb.

It was rock _hard_.

He took another one from her - she gave him a sidelong glance - and felt that one. Hard too.

"Geez, Rita, don'tcha know how ta pick fruit?" Raven put the two nectarines back on top of the pile. "These things you just got are like rocks, girl. One bite and yer teeth'll break."

She paused to frown at him. "What's your point, old man?"

"Well... they're not even ripe!" He took a third one from her hands and waved it around. "These things don't taste all that good when they've got too much crunch to them."

She brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Alright then, _O Great Old Man_," she mocked with an upturned palm in the air. "Tell me exactly _how_ I'm supposed to pick fruits."

"Glad ta see you recognize my greatness!" He gave her a sunny grin and a thumbs-up. "First, put all that back down." He made a sort of _shoo, shoo_ motion with his hands, and she dumped the fruits back into the pile. "See now, these ones ya just had probably wouldn't have been ripe for another week maybe. You gotta get ones like these," he searched for one that was firm, yet still had softness to it. "'Cause these ones are gonna be at least a _little_ sweeter than those ones. The sweetness doesn't really change once their picked - and these guys are picked when they're green - so it might help ta sniff em too, weird as it may look."

"Didn't realize you grew up on a farm," Rita said sarcastically. An image of a younger version of Raven - and Schwann - wearing a straw hat, sitting in an open field and smelling fruits ran through her mind. Her lips twitched upwards. "Do tell me more,_ First Captain of the Imperial Farmers_."

He smiled wryly, giving her a sideways look. "I'm being scratched up by a kee-_ute_ little kitty cat here. _Yeowch_." She rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore the 'cute little kitty cat' remark as he grabbed a handful of nectarines, put them in a paper bag, and handed the vendor a few coins. "A curious, researcher kitty cat ta boot."

"You are now in charge of picking and buying my groceries."

"Awe, man!" He slouched over. "My poor wallet..." Rita snorted and he cracked open an eye with a grin. "But that's okay, I'm a gentleman with enough money behind my name."

"_Gentleman_, my ass." She retorted. "Your name isn't worth much."

"My heart is wounded, Rita darlin'." He clutched at his chest dramatically. "Might as well dig it out and kill me now."

She gave his shin a hard kick. "Don't be stupid, you idiot." She glared at him. "That's not funny. Tell me enough times and I just might actually do it, if only to get rid of you."

"Only for you, my dear," he limped. "Damn, girl, you sure kick hard."

"Only for you, old man," she imitated, crossing her arms.

"I feel so privileged," he moaned. "So privileged that I think I'll treat you to some sushi."

"No thanks," she made a face. "The stuff you like is gross."

"Awe, come on, what's wrong with a little fish?" He whined.

"It _smells_, for one. Food shouldn't stink like that - and neither should it be _slimy_._ Ugh_." She rubbed her arms, shuddering. "And you eat it _raw_ sometimes, too. That's just..." She left it hanging.

"Yer so picky, my girl. When was the last time you had it? Yer tastes can change over time, ya know," Raven chided with a ticking finger.

"... I don't know, a long time ago." Rita muttered, scratching her nose. "Probably around that time you dragged us to that place in Dahngrest a few years ago."

"That's _enough_ time to see if ya like it now!" He grinned. "If my memory serves me right, Halure has fresh fish caught past Ehmead Hill and imported here every so often."

"Well, I wouldn't know." Rita shrugged. "It's not like I paid any attention to that."

"Well, that's too bad, cause their stall is riiiiight over there!"

"I'm not eating any of that if you make it." She stated.

"Why not?"

"I don't like it."

"A cat that doesn't like fish is a strange cat indeed," Raven 'hmm'ed and rubbed his chin. "How about we make a deal?" She raised her eyebrow at him. "I make ya some sushi - and you at least _try_ a little - and... I'll let ya_ poke around my sexy body tonight_." He said loudly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I- wha- you-" Rita sputtered, blushing indignantly. "Are you a moron?" She kicked his shin again. Random passersby paused to glance at them. "You can't just say something stupid like... like... like _that_ out in public! People will get the wrong idea!" She hissed.

Raven laughed heartily, ignoring his throbbing-once-again leg. "I don't see why I can't! I mean, you had me shirtless and tied up in bed this morn- _ouch!_"

She'd stomped on his foot, scowling. "Shut up!"

"And you treat me so roughly," he sighed loudly. "How am I s'pose ta deal with your rough, kinky ways all the _mmph_!"

Rita covered his mouth with her hand, glaring at him hotly. Her face was red, and one glance around was enough to see that people were watching them openly. "I get it!" She hissed through clenched teeth, feeling her ears burn with embarrassment. "Buy your stupid fish and whatever else and I'll eat it! Just shut up already!"

She saw the crinkle of his eyes and felt him grin. She pulled her hand away.

"Hardworking, handsome slave at your service ta do whatever pleases ya, my lady." It pierced the crowd, loud and husky, and he dashed away to escape her wrath.

"I'm going to _kill_ you!" she yelled after his retreating back as shoppers watched him go. She coughed into her hand - either from embarrassment, or something had suddenly decided to lodge itself in her throat - then took a deep breath and smoothed out her hair. Raging wasn't going to do her any good; it was his fault he was so infuriatingly... _frustrating._

_Augh_.

Rubbing her face tiredly with both hands, Rita took one step forward in his direction...

... about-faced, and began walking home.

_x_

_... The heart, found in all animals with a circulatory system, is a myogenic muscular organ, responsible for pumping blood throughout blood vessels by repeating rhythmic contractions. The term 'cardiac' means 'related to the heart'; it stems from the Krityan word, kardia, for 'heart'..._

_... The human heart has a mass roughly between 250 and 350 grams - approximately the size of one's fist... located anterior to the vertebral column... posterior to the sternum..._

_... four chambers: two superior atria (receiving), two inferior ventricles (discharging)..._

Rita sat hunched over a desk as she scribbled a few lines into her notebook, muttering to herself. There was a mass of sticky notes sticking out from her textbook._  
><em>

_... function of the right side, function of the left side, de-oxygenated blood, oxygenated blood, passive process called diffusion..._

Where did that page of hers go? She shuffled her papers, sticking her pencil between the pages and shutting the book to lift it up. Not there - something flapped in the corner of her eye-

When the hell was it on the floor?

_... number of heart diseases, such as heart failure, cardiomyopathy, cardiovascular disease, coronary heart disease..._

... _The use of blastia has no effect on the heart or body as the rate of aer condensing and dispersing is far too miniscule-_

Rita jumped as she heard her front door open loudly with a _BANG!_

"Rita! Rita, where are you? Rita!" Quickly, she shuffled her papers into a messy pile. His voice sounded urgent, and she could hear the sound of footsteps and rustling. "Rita!"

"I'm up here!" She called out, putting her pencil down and getting to her feet hastily.

He thumped up the stairs towards his room (he was calling it his room, now, even though it wasn't his house, but that was too bad for Rita, _haha, that's what you get for demanding that I stay-_) and paused in the doorway upon seeing a standing brunette, a messy pile of notes and scattered books. He let out a breath and, fighting the urge to go directly to her, stumbled across to flop on the bed.

Rita looked at him warily_,_ half alarmed and half confused. His hair was on the verge of coming free of whatever it was he used to tie it up, and his clothes were a wrinkled mess. "What the hell happened to you?" She asked.

"That's what I wanna know," he muttered into the bedsheets. "I bought stuff ta make ya a cake, and then I ran inta that guy who called himself the Wonder Chef. He gave me this awesome recipe," he said unenthusiastically as he lifted his trembling hand with a tightly gripped sheet of paper, then dropped it back down heavily, "and just kinda... _yelled_ some weird crap like 'enjoy the recipe that I, the Wonder Chef, have given you!'" Raven mocked in an absurdly high falsetto. It was entirely wrong because the Wonder Chef didn't even _have_ a high-pitched voice. "And... I dunno. He just... disappeared, an' aaaaall these ladies were lookin' at me."

Rita covered her face with a hand. So there wasn't any _real_ harm done... Her lips crept upwards, hidden behind her hand. She peered at him in between her fingers. "And?"

"And?" He turned his head to look at her, horror in his eyes. "They were _crazy!_" He exclaimed with a burst of energy - but his body remained unmoving on the bed. He didn't even twitch! Thatt was _weird_. "They had this kinda _gleam_ in their eyes. I figured it musta been my _mysterious charm_, so I gave 'em a little greetin'..." He shuddered. "They started chasin' after me, tryn'a grab this itty bit o' paper."

A snort of laughter slipped through her lips.

"It's not funny!" He cried out defensively. "They were pullin' at my hair and grabbin' my coat - I love my coat! - an' they kept screamin' "gimme that recipe!" over and over again! I was runnin' around all over lookin' for ya', but I remembered that you left without me, so I had ta find my way here with a buncha _crazies_ chasin' after me!" He rolled his face into the mattress a couple of times, pocketing the recipe. "An' then I lost them and had ta make my way over here! These streets are seriously worse than the castle!"

He watched her shoulders shake as she chuckled behind her hands. "I can't believe you..." He felt his face soften into a smile as he watched her laugh behind closed eyes.

"What?" She wasn't looking at him, so it was okay for only an instant, right? Because this was kind of a rare moment- "Can't believe what?"

She shook her head at him. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard in a long time, old man."

"Awe, my heart's breakin', darlin'," he drawled, eying the little lock of her hair that liked to stick out once in a while.

"You should have tried to work that "charm" of yours again, old man." She smirked, turning to her books. "I'm sure one of those _crazies_, as you put it, would have loved to-"

"No, thanks." He muttered, watching her rearrange her papers on the desk. There was a sticky note stuck to the back of her head. "... Y'know, you should laugh more."

She wasn't listening. "What?"

"I said," he faked a yawn, "whassat, more work stuff?"

"Sort of," she replied absently. "Just stuff to compare your blastia with, in case anything happens in the future."

"Future?"

"Yeah," she paused, scratching the back of her neck. "... Your blastia..." She trailed off for a moment, lost in thought. ".. It's not..." She shook her head. "It's not a real heart, but there's always a chance that you could develop the same problems someone with a real one could get."

"Huh. I see," he remarked. "Well, then, I think it's about time you stopped that," his voice became stern as he sat up. "Right now."

Her head snapped up, glaring at him. "What?"

"You heard me," he spoke slowly, authoritatively. "You're going to stop that right now-"

Her mouth opened to berate him. "Who the hell do you think you are-"

"-and you're going to come help me bake you a cake." He finished.

Rita stared at him as if he'd just confessed that he was sleeping with Yuri. _Everyone_ knew Yuri Lowell belonged with a certain pink-haired princess, and that he did not 'swing' _that _way.

No matter how confusing his long hair was.

"... What?"

"That's right," his face broke out into a grin. "You left me all alone out there in the market wilderness and I had ta fend fer myself, getting lost on the way. And," he waved the paper in his hand, "the recipe he gave me was fer a cake, too."

"I don't see why I have to help you," she huffed.

"You'll be learning how ta make this at the same time?"

"When would I ever make a cake anyway?"

"I dunno, fer the princess' birthday?" He shrugged.

She seemed to think about it for a moment. "... No, the cooks in the castle would make her one anyway."

"That's true. Hmm..." He rubbed his chest. "I know! When I kick the bucket, you can have my blastia!" He exclaimed, finger in the air.

She threw a book at him. "Have I mentioned how that's not funny?" She glared. "Because really, it's not."

"Okay, okay, 'm lucky that one missed me," he sighed, muttering to himself. "Well then, how 'bout ya help me, and I stay outta yer hair when yer busy?" He suggested, wiggling a finger into his ear. "I'll even quit with the kinky jokes."

She scrutinized his hand. "... As long as you wash your hands and quit doing that," she pointed at the offending action, "in my house. That's disgusting, old man."

"As you wish, my lady," he did a half bow. It looked strange, because he was still sitting down...

... And his finger was still in his ear.

Rita just shook her head and left the room. Her footsteps echoed down the wooden floorboards, then down the stairs.

With a sigh, Raven hopped off the bed and into the bathroom, washing his hands in a torrent of water. He cupped his hands, letting the water pool before splashing his face a few times.

What was he doing?

He shook his head. Not even around her for one whole day and already he couldn't mind his own damn business. And she wanted to keep him around for a week or two? Maybe he could comply and somehow manage. He could just ignore this damn _thing_ that wouldn't go away, pretend it never existed. That would be for the best, right? Because if she found out, he'd probably never see her again.

Or maybe she would hit him over the head and tell him he was stupid, and then pretend that it didn't exist. But then it would end up being on her mind every single time he was around her, and it would just make everything normal between them all that much worse.

On the other hand, he could stay a few days. Let her drop her guard, then slip away one night... and be dead the next time he saw her.

Tough choices. Raven wiped his face with his sleeve and stepped out and down the stairs. Maybe he'd get so deep under her skin she'd finally get sick of him and kick him out.

But he'd already promised he'd stay out of her way if she...

A coughing fit sounded through the air, breaking him out of his thoughts. Hurriedly, he rushed into the kitchen; Rita was huddled over the sink, coughing violently into one hand. "Rita, are you okay?" Raven hurried to her side, placing a hand on her back and rubbing soothing circles.

"'m fine," she rasped, coughing again. "Just - just water."

He spotted the half-filled glass of water on the counter and heaved a sigh of relief. "Yeesh, don't scare me like that!" The rubbing motion continued. "Easy now, breathe, in the nose, out." Pause. "Feeling better?"

"... Yeah," she breathed. She clutched her hand to her chest, flapping the other at him. "I'm fine. Thanks."

"If you say so," he paused for a bit, eying her up, before deciding to himself that yes, she wasn't going to keel over and die on him anytime soon. "Ah, that's right!" He realized. "I left all that stuff on the big couch out there. Be back in a sec." He winked.

As soon as he turned his back and left, Rita opened her palm and made a face. Quickly, she rinsed it off in a flood of water and wiped her hand on a towel.

Raven returned, carrying bags in his hand. Setting them down on the counter, he pulled open the fridge and started piling things in. "Don't think I forgot about makin' ya some sushi," he swung a wrapped fish in the air, "'cause I bought everythin' I need and yer eatin' it fer dinner." He looked at the clock on the wall. "... Or maybe tomorrow. Depends on the time. Wanna pick?"

"Doesn't matter to me," she grimaced.

"Hmm... We'll see later, then." He left a number of ingredients on the counter. Rita glanced at them curiously: three eggs, two limes, three small containers of soft cream cheese, a block of butter, and a bag of graham cracker crumbs. "You've got sugar here, right?" She nodded and pointed to a cupboard. "All right. This here is whipping cream," he gave a small carton a tiny shake. "It's gonna be fer toppin' the cake when we eat it, so we're not gonna use it right now." He stuffed it in and shut the door.

"What kind of cake is it?" She wondered.

"Hmm... Key lime cheesecake?" His tone was asking a question. He pulled the recipe out of his pocket. "... Yep."

"Huh."

"All right!" He clapped his hands. "First is to..." He skimmed the paper. "... Heat the oven to 350 degrees F!"

"Fahrenheit," she muttered, stockings sliding across the floor as she moved to switch on the oven. "So the Wonder Chef's been using electrical stoves and ovens now, has he?" She muttered to herself; Raven didn't hear it.

"I knew that," he said passively, pulling open one of her other cupboards to grab a number of bowls. "Mix melted butter with graham cracker crumbs and press it onto the bottom of a springform pan..." He stared at the paper, leaving it on the counter and grabbing the block of butter. "Springform pan... The hell is that..." He muttered. He cut a slice of the butter and left it in a bowl. "Do ya even got one of those... whatever they are?"

Rita averted her eyes. "Y-yeah..."

"Well then, think you can find it wherever it is?" He opened the stove and stuck the butter into the warming oven.

"Here," Rita muttered, pulling her arm out from the clanking cookware in the cabinet and sliding the pan over to him.

Raven paused and snorted faintly, lips twitching up. "... A heart, Rita darlin'?"

"Shut up!" She said defensively, blushing. She crossed her arms. "Estelle bought it for me when I moved here, and she wouldn't let me refuse it, so... shut up!"

"All right, all right," he held his hands up. "So what makes it so special?"

She fiddled with the latch on its side. "The base and the sides can separate," it popped open and she pulled the two pieces apart. "See?"

"Gotcha." He pursed his lips, turning away from the girl holding two heart-shaped objects. Seeing her do that just made him want to-

He dumped the graham cracker crumbs into a bowl violently. Rita just stared at him weirdly and shifted to his side to look at the recipe. He moved away from her, though she didn't notice.

"Mix one and a quarter cups of crumbs with a quarter cup of melted butter..." Rita murmured to herself quietly. "105 grams, 55 grams..." Raven opened the oven and, wrapping his sleeve around his hand, reached in to pull out the already-hot bowl of melted butter. Just about to tip the bowl of crumbs over into the butter, Rita pulled on his arm. "Wait!"

He paused. "Huh?"

"Aren't you supposed to measure that?" She pointed to the ingredients in his hands.

"Nah, did that in my head. Cup and a quarter, quarter cup."

"... Measure it. Here." She pulled out a measuring cup.

"But if I put the butter in there it's gonna stick to the inside of that and-"

"Just do it." She rolled her eyes.

"Aye, ma'am." He said lamely. She watched his hands as he measured - why were his damn fingers so long? Her thumb rubbed the writing callus on her middle finger. Her hands were small and pale and there was a bit of grit underneath her fingernail, probably from when she was scratching that crap stuck on her book. "-fect!"

"Huh?" She looked blankly at him.

"I said, my measurin' was perfect!" He waved a finger at her, grinning cheekily. "I'm a master at this stuff, girly."

"Fluke," she muttered with a scoff.

"Don't be jealous, now," he combined the crumbs and the butter and started kneading it with his hands. "Wanna get that cream cheese and beat it in a bowl with... uh... however much sugar the recipe's askin' for?"

"Like I'd have a reason to be jealous of an idiot like you," she remarked, finger on the recipe. At least his hands were clean. She disappeared from his line of sight. Vaguely, he heard the sounds of a whisk a minute later - where did the limes go? - and rested his hands on top of the heart-shaped pan. For a second, he almost glared at it.

_Damn thing was mocking him._

Blowing out his cheeks with a huff, Raven pressed his mixed ingredients onto the pan's bottom. He was getting old - senile, even - if he thought an inanimate object like a _baking pan_ was mocking him. That was just silly.

Rita reappeared at his side again with a grater, spooking him out. She gave the pan a once-over, muttered to herself, then rummaged through the refrigerator to pull out two more limes.

"Whatcha doin' there?"

"More limes," she muttered absentmindedly, running the fruits under cold water. "Recipe says two limes is mild- shit," she winced as she knocked the cup of water into the sink. Maybe she should have rinsed it and put it away earlier, she thought as the glass broke into pieces.

But then again, maybe it was just a crappy cup if it broke after such a short fall. She reached down to pick up the pieces.

"Hey, hey, hey, _hey_!" Raven blurted out. Rita paused, startled, a piece of glass hanging from her fingertips. "Put it down, put it down." He tried to shoo her with his hands, sidling up next to her.

"What?"

"Lemme clean up that mess," he said, taking the fragment gently from her fingers. "It ain't fittin' fer a lady ta do the dangerous work."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It's only a bit of glass. It's not like it's going to kill me." She reached into the sink again, but Raven nudged her away with his hip.

"Yer hands are for fixin' things and burnin' things, not gettin' cut." He murmured kindly. He waggled the fingers on one hand, the other already filling with glass bits. "Mine, on the other hand, they're all rough, so it's gonna take more than this ta cut through."

Rita just stared at him like he was a stranger for a few seconds before he nudged his chin over her head. Resigned, she shrugged and turned around to finish her work. Zest the limes, juice them, mix well, add eggs one at a time slowly until they were just blended...

She paused in the middle of squeezing the last lime to glance at the archer in the corner of her eye. He was still picking out smaller shards from the sink with his bare fingers - that was stupid, he was going to cut himself; Rita looked at her own hands. The only scars she had were burn marks, from when she was first learning her magic, and small, almost invisible cuts from broken beakers and test tubes. Every injury on their 'quest to save the world' was never given a chance to leave a mark.

What did he know about her hands? They were pretty rough, too, unlike Estelle's, which were soft like down, and Judith's, which were smooth like velvet.

The sound of clinking glass being dropped into the waste bin snapped her out of her muse

"Ouch," Raven muttered casually to himself, looking at his finger as he stuck it under a rush of water. "Looks like I cut myself after all."

"Of course," Rita said matter-of-factly, shrugging her shoulders. "That's what you get for picking up broken glass with your bare fingers."

"Hey now, you were tryin' ta do the same thing, too."

"You must be mistaken," _crack_ went the first egg. "Why would I risk injuring my dainty, little, _important_ hands when your rough, calloused ones can do the job for me?"

"Dainty li'l hands, my ass," Raven muttered. She tossed an egg shell over her shoulder at him and he ducked. "Yikes!"

"Take that," she said unenthusiastically without turning, lips twitching up.

"Oh yeah?" He crept up slowly behind her. "Wanna try that again?"

"I'll take you on anytime, old ma-!" Suddenly, he attacked her sides with wandering, wiggling fingers. "_H-hey!_ Stop that!" She cried out, laughter bursting from her lips. An egg dropped onto the floor, and Raven tickled her sides in an onslaught of flittering motions. She twisted herself between fits of laughter to hit him, only for him to dodge and continue his merciless attack. Rita took a step backwards to balance herself (and maybe to get in an attempt to headbutt his chin), only to cause them both to stumble backwards.

Quickly, on impulsive reflex, his arms wrapped around her and they both fell together.

_x_

Time took an eternity to return to her senses, and Rita was all too much aware of the blood pounding in her ears. Slowly, through the muddled syrup her mind had dissolved into, her hands gave an involuntary experimental squeeze.

What was that between her fingers... cloth?

She inhaled deeply, distinctly noting the smell of Luluria flowers and dry grass, and maybe a hint of leather somewhere in between. Vaguely, she became aware of the feeling of something holding on to her head and the small of her back, but that didn't really matter as much as the warmth surrounding her.

For a moment, she nuzzled her nose closer into the warm scent of spring and summer-

Her eyes snapped open in alarm.

"You okay there, Rita?" Raven murmured stiffly. He was holding her against his chest, her face just above his heart. A quiet hum registered in the back of her mind, but she ignored it.

He pulled away to look at her - and for a moment, she concluded that his eye colour would have been nice for a blastia core - before something flashed behind his eyes too fast for her to catch. He shifted, and the sense of having her legs entangled with his gave her mind enough incentive to finally start working again. Quickly, she pushed him off of her, and he flopped over without resistance. "_Oof._" He breathed.

Rita sat up, glancing around while trying to fight the redness that was surely colouring her cheeks. An egg lay broken in half on the floor, decorating the kitchen tiles with clear and yellow slime.

She was definitely making him clean that up.

Raven stood slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh... Sorry 'bout that." With a sheepish grin, he stuck out a hand to help her up. Rita accepted it, noting that there was a sticky note stuck to the back of his hand.

"It's..." She shook her head, half dazed, half confused, and an extra fifth frustrated. Not even a full day and already he was making her life a little more hectic. "... It's fine. Just... help me clean this up," she muttered, bending to pick up the half-shells.

Somewhere along the way, she sat down at the table, cheek in her palm, and watched him with mild disinterest as he finished her job and stuck the dessert into the oven. There was something... _different_, she realized: something too small and insignificant for her to distinguish, and she couldn't tell whether it was a difference in him or herself.

And that was very, very distracting at the moment. So distracting, it was frustrating.

"Hey," Raven was pouting at her, acting like an idiot. "Hey, Rita." He wiped the last droplets of water from his hand on a towel, then held his finger up for her to see. "My finger's still bleedin'. Can ya kiss it and make it better?"

Rubbing her forehead out of tiredness and frustration, and maybe a little exasperation, Rita went towards him, grabbed his wrist, and bit his finger instead.

**_x x x_**

A/N: According to FFnet, this is 7654 words - not including a-notes, but including my little scene breaks. Um... Holy jeebus? Haha. Homework's not done, and I haven't even studied for my math test tomorrow (math 12 graphing functions. ew.). BUT I HAVE UPDATED. And it's a little bit _wtf_, because it hasn't been a day and I'm already pushing them together maybe too quickly.

Anyways. I'm very bad with stretching things out. I personally find much of this chapter feeling rushed and too list-like. "He did this. Then he did that. She kicked him. Stuff happened. Talking. Scene cut." Or maybe it's just me being too self-critical. I don't know. If you review, criticize me. If you don't crit. me, that's okay too. And if you don't _review_, then that's absolutely okay too. Because I love you. And I care.

Cooking- er... baking scene! Both of them. In the kitchen. Tried to do something original... ish, came up with cooking (them making sushi together), turned it into baking (recipe googled because key lime cheesecake is yummy, and kind of slapped down just because I can). Yay, now let the kinky stuff begin. Just kidding. OR AM I?

Oops. I talked too much. Again. And FFnet isn't letting me underline my scene breaks. Damn it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So I forgot to mention something small in the end of my last chapter's author note; that bit about Raven and Yuri and gay relations was me being frustrated at the amount of stuff there is between those two on the internet. (I'm looking at you, pixiv people -squint-). I don't want Raven x Yuri. I want Raven x Rita. Ritaaaaa! Haha. Um... yes.

Later update than I hoped. Apologies. Constant editing and rewriting and it just feels like I don't even know what happened in the previous chapter. Bah. Grad year is a thorough ass-kicker. Um... why is ffnet not letting me underline my X's right there under this... maybe I should just start using the regular line break like I used to.

_**x x x**_

Raven stared at his reflection in the mirror above bathroom sink. Droplets of water trickled down his face onto his chest, missing the towel around his neck altogether. Carefully, he lifted the end that was draped over his blastia. There was nothing different about it, except for the faint glow that signalled it was in use.

He poked at the flesh around the mechanism, using his fingers to lightly stretch the skin attached to the metal. There, he could see the faint lines of cauterization, hardly existing, but noticeable if inspected closely enough. Gently, he fingered the smooth edges of the once-pointy tendrils, smiling softly.

Rita had done that in the castle after they rescued Estelle, muttering to him about carelessness and idiocy. All he'd wanted was some sleep, but _nooo_, Yuri just _had_ to wake him up from his peaceful nap. Once he left, Raven was _just_ getting back to being nice and cozy in that prison cell...

… And then Rita had barged in. "_Take off your shirt_," she'd demanded, and Raven just stared at her like she turned into a horse. Or one of those star-shaped creatures.

What _were_ those, anyway?

"'_m sorry, what?_" It had come out sounding kind of like _ghulululu_.

"_Hurry up. I need to see your blastia so I can get back to Estelle and fix her formula."_ He recalled the way she put her hands on her hips, leaning over him with a scowl on her face. And she'd been wearing that cat outfit, too. She wore it pretty often, actually.

"_What?_" He had so (in)coherently said, allowing her to pull him up by the collar.

"_You heard me, old man_," she pushed the fabric of his coat aside, waiting for him to unbutton his shirt. "_I need to fix Estelle's formula, and to do that, I have to see what you're running on."_

"_Uh... Okay..._" He had been half-asleep, groggily undoing the buttons and unaware of exactly what the hell he was doing, when warm fingers poked his skin and brought out the glowing formula in the dark cell. He'd covered his eyes with his arm.

Now that he thought about it, he found it incredibly odd that he'd complied so willingly without giving a second thought. That... was something he never did. Huh.

"_I see..."_ Rita had muttered to herself, already scribbling into her notebook. "_There's already something that shouldn't be there and it's interfering with the code, but it's not a major issue and it's not going to kill you. I'll come back to fix it later tonight. Also..."_

"_Hm?"_ Something soft had rubbed against his skin.

"_You're bleeding, you idiot._" His eyes had peeked out from under his wrist to see her wipe blood away with her sleeve. "_You're going to be useless if you let that poke holes into yourself all the time."_

Raven tapped at it with a fingernail, making small _tnk, tnk, tnk_ noises, remembering that she had indeed found him lounging around in Schwann's bedroom that night, away from the brigade and with all the solitude he could possibly have had - _without_ her intrusion.

And then she had taken the liberties on herself and told him very strictly that if he moved, she was going to set fire to his scalp and leave him permanently bald.

A part of him - a small, _small_ part - had screamed _"rape! rape!"_ when the mage had unabashedly demanded that he strip off his top and lie down on the bed - which she shoved him onto _anyway_ - before groping at the rock in his chest.

The other part of him tensed up instead, leaving him frozen in confusion and staring up at her, one half insane and two wholes _scared_ of this weird, almost _familiar_ feeling that passed briefly through him (a _second_ time upon being in her presence, if he could recall clearly) - before it receded and _almost _disappeared. But it didn't go away and that part of him never set off an alarm or any kind of warning (because that part of him was an asshole and a half), so he got stuck with her leaning over him, cleaning the skin around the metal as if he - or, perhaps, the blastia - was going to break.

And all he had done was gawk at her while she worked, wondering why now, why me, why _her?_

Then she'd pulled up the formula and suddenly, the blastia _opened up_ - and he found himself wondering if he had a spring somewhere inside of him that was suddenly going to pop out and strike her in the middle of her forehead.

Raven dried his face into the towel and grabbed at random for his shirt, trying to think of something else besides small hands working expertly at softening metal and smoothing out sharp edges with tools. Something like... dogs like Repede (and that really weird phase where the pooch was peeing _everywhere_, dammit), or flying around the world on the Fiertia with Ba'ul, or that awesome levitating spell that Rita had managed to work out _once_ before she seemed to have decided that _nope, _she was too high above the ground for her tastes.

… It wasn't working.

Maybe he could count the number of hairs on his head before he really started balding...

The archer stepped out the washroom door, buttoning his shirt up. He glanced at his pack lying beside the bed, then towards the door and the window. It was around midnight now, and Rita was probably still up tampering with her research materials and textbooks.

He frowned. Something was wrong with his last button...

"Aw, come on, seriously?" Raven muttered to himself; it was hanging by its last thread. "Girl just couldn't wait ta get her hands on my skin..." He pushed it through the hole anyway, shaking his head. He reached for his purple coat and held it out in front of him, wondering whether to put it on or not, when there was a knock at the door. "Come in, Rita, I'm not going to bite you." Like you bit _me_, he finished wryly in his mind.

The door cracked open and Rita stuck her head in. "You busy?" She asked him.

"Bit late fer a stroll in the park, don'tcha think?" He folded the cloth messily and tossed it onto the bed, turning to face her.

"Shut up." The door opened wider to let her through. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a partyin' unicorn, darlin'," he drawled, rubbing the back of his neck lazily. "Worried? I always knew ya had the hots for me-"

"Shut up." she repeated, plucking at a loose thread tiredly on her oversized grey sweater. "I'm just here to check up on you after I adjusted your formula earlier." She fiddled with the string, spinning it in her fingers. "Nothing wrong with it? No lightheadedness, no problems breathing, no bursts of light from the core?"

"Fit as a fiddle," he chirped. "Thought it was just my old age gettin' ta me when I saw this thing in the mirror, since it doesn't shine so brightly anymore." He tapped the core in his chest.

"No, I fixed that. It used to glow so much because it was still running half on aer, half on your life force." She motioned for him to give her his wrist. "Now it runs mostly on mana, which is a different power source all together. What you have now is probably the most I can get it to stop glowing, because if it didn't glow anymore, you'd probably be dead."

"Thanks for the concern," he complied, watching as she looked at the clock's ticking hand. _12:30_. He breathed slowly, catching that same scent of shampoo from that morning wafting from her hair.

"Pulse is normal, no signs of malfunction..." she muttered to herself, dropping his wrist. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "Sure there's nothing wrong with it?"

"Relax, Rita," Raven said gently. "I'm not going to keel over and die yet. Go get some sleep; you deserve it."

"But-"

"I'm fine," he placed his hands on her shoulders and shooed her out, not unkindly. "You did good. This old man's even better than before now thanks to you."

"Are you sure?" He didn't even need to push her; she was walking already.

"Positive."

"If you say so..." She gave another yawn, trodding down the hall. "... 'Night, old man."

He'd forgotten how docile a sleepy Rita could be sometimes. "'Night, miss mage."

Raven watched as she disappeared from his sight before shutting the door. Sure, she was sleepy now, but the mage could still be up for an extra hour or two, studying and tinkering with things until she feel asleep with her face in a book.

She'd probably drool, too.

Sighing softly to himself, he grabbed his pack and stuck his hand inside it, searching. Since he had time to spare, he might as well do it now. Even a man had his needs when he went out traveling in the world. It was stupid when knights sought out women and other female knights to help them with their... _problem_. At least _Oltorain_ kept his men well-prepared and well-taught.

Where was that little... nope... There!

Raven took out a small box and opened it, pulling out the spool of thread and needle he carried with him. Soldiers had to be prepared, and this was no exception. Pulling his shirt off, he sighed and set the needle to work.

Downstairs, Rita sat at the couch with a glass of milk in her hands, rereading her copy of Estelle's book on their adventures. It tickled her mind when she read the little bits that had been changed: the book said this, but what really happened was _that_, and she remembered the way at that one moment she'd been-

She rested a cheek in her hand with half-lidded eyes. Sometimes, the best time to be awake was in the middle of the night.

With a yawn, she turned the page. Here was the part where Raven had helped them get past the Flynn Brigade and the three knights from the Schwann Brigade in the Weasand of Cados by pulling a simple, stupid act. She snorted, taking a sip from her cup. How that idiot could keep such a secret like that for so long, she had no idea.

She drained her milk and glanced around sharply (or, as sharply as she could when she was almost asleep), putting her now-empty glass on the coffee table. So far, said idiot hadn't tried to sneak out. _Yet_.

Her eyes returned to the book in her lap.

… Belius, an entelexeia. Who would have thought?

She read the lines slowly, fuzzily remembering the details as they faded in and out of her mind. Her eyes drifted shut, head lolling...

_x_

The halls of Baction were as cold and eerie as ever. Rita didn't know why she was wandering through the stone corridors. She didn't even know where she was _going_.

All she knew was that there was something there waiting for her.

Something monster-like scuttled by, rattling rocks and debris as it passed by her without interest. That was strange. She hadn't even used a holy bottle to ward them off...

She entered one of the large, vast rooms that she remembered as being monster-infested. It was empty now, save for oddly shaped fragments and... a bag? She stepped forward to inspect it closely; why weren't those lights as bright as they used to be?

Rita picked up a curved piece of the fragments: it was round and long in shape, with only the ends sharp and jagged. She ran her hand along it, feeling the smooth yet rough surface against her palm. It certainly wasn't a rock - the word was just on the tip of her tongue...

She paused, looking down. A chill coursed through her body. That bag looked like...

She dropped the item and picked up the bag. Something large rolled around inside as she lifted it up.

It was definitely Karol's.

… So what was it doing here?

Slowly, with heavy hands, the mage undid the buckles while glancing at the _thing_ on the floor, then lifted the flap that covered them-

She made a noise in the back of her throat and flung it away from her. The skull of the teenage boy rolled out of the bag, rattling against the ground. It tapped against the rib that had been in her hand, and Rita tried to step back; suddenly, she was aware of the sharp angles of the ground beneath her feet that made her ankles hurt.

She was standing on _bones_.

"_No_..." It was breathless and frightened; her vision began to blur. Rita shook her head, covering her mouth. "_No!_"

She ran away, tripping over his remains and other stones along the way. The image of a young, smiling teen followed her through the empty hallways, mocking her. His laugh echoed in her mind, boisterous and loud, twisting into the cackle of witches and the giggle of porcelain dolls.

It was hard to breathe. Something gripped at her heart, constricting and cold and leaving her choking.

This time, she stumbled over another set of remains sitting upright against the wall. Rita could only stare in horror as her eyes trailed up the long, crossed bones of long legs, to the clasped hands over where the stomach should have been, to the tilted, sleeping skull and the lance against the wall.

For a moment, Rita saw the skin of the woman, with her calm face and her perfect, flawless features.

Even in death, Judith could be casual and strangely beautiful.

Rita fell to her knees, grinding her fist into the ground. Her knuckles ripped open, bleeding, and she was dimly aware of the pain: a dull, throbbing sensation that should have hurt more than it did. Something scuttled behind her and she turned her head around furiously, blinded by tears, but all she saw was an empty corridor. She faced forward again, expecting to see Judith's undisturbed corpse of bone-

She stared into the black entrance of Baction's end. Rita stood up, her fists tight and her knuckles scarred. The hallway behind her had turned into walls, surrounding her, trapping her inside. The only way to get out was to move forward.

Her feet moved in front of her, eerily steady, the clicks of her heels echoing with every footstep. She pressed her lips into a thin, pale line, cold all over.

There was no rubble in this hallway, only hollow space and cold stone tiles. Rita walked forward, trembling as the pitch black room got closer and closer. There was something - _someone_ over by the entrance...

Instead of bones this time, Yuri's corpse sat against the wall at the end of the hallway, eyes open and glazed over. The only sign of injury on him was the thin trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. Repede lay beside him, still and unmoving and just as cold as the swordsman.

Grimly, Rita knelt down and gently closed his eyes. Her body was too cold, her mind too frozen to feel anything but hungry revenge. Standing straight, she faced the dark void and, with a deep breath, stepped forward into the blackness.

It was a strange sensation inside. Rita couldn't see anything beyond her at all. It was as if a black cloak, much like a fog, had wrapped around her, filling her eyes and her nose and her mouth. But the strange thing, she noted, was that she could see _herself_. She could see the lines in her palm clearly, her fingers, her clothes - it was as if she were _glowing_-

"_Please..._"

Almost instantly, it seemed as though a gust of wind had pushed the fog away. Her throat tightened at the scene in front of her.

"_Please,_" Estellise croaked softly, small hands gripping at the gauntleted one around her throat. "Please... stop this..."

His cold, teal eyes simply stared at her, unfazed as her legs dangled in the air. "What would be the point in doing so?"

"It... hurts..." She winced.

"I believe that is my goal, dear _princess_."

"Why... would you do this... to us... Raven?" It was barely a whisper, but Rita heard it loud and clear all the same.

"My name," his hand tightened, "is Schwann Oltorain." He tossed her aside, sword glinting coldly in the faint candle light. The princess held her throat, coughing as she gasped for air. "My orders are to dispose of you."

"I thought... we were your friends..." she choked out.

"Friends?" Schwann chuckled, the sound reverberating around the walls, deep and full of mocking contempt. "My dear princess, you are naively misled. Schwann Oltorain doesn't have _friends,_" He cocked his head with a smile that looked down upon them and lifted his sword. "He has _pawns_ meant to throw away."

"_No!_" Rita stretched her hand out, running forward, but she was too late. His blade sliced cleanly through the princess's chest, her eyes glazing over as he pierced her heart. Rita watched him pull his blade out, Estellise's blood mixing with the blood red colour of the captain's sword.

He was watching it, fascinated as the blade absorbed the blood. She watched it, too, fascinated and horrified and not at all herself. "Mage." It was sharp and cut cleanly through the air, cutting through her.

Rita's body refused to move, frozen out of fear. She tried to work her vocal cords, but nothing came out.

He turned to look at her, his face warping in twists and turns. "Why do you cast?"

Rita was shaking as cold beads of sweat began to form. She was terrified.

He stepped calmly towards her, but she stayed still, unable to move as if she was bound by a spell. His metal footsteps echoed in the vast expanse of the room, sword glinting as the flames of candles flickered. The distortions around his face continued. "I asked you a question." He tilted her chin up using the flat of his sword's tip.

Something warm brushed across her cheek, halting the twisting black hole his face had been. The scent of something - leather? Earth? Dry grass? - flooded her senses. Her tears disappeared and her vision cleared, as if there'd been a curtain of _something_ in front of her all along.

His eyes looked like red wine.

"You _monster_," she hissed, eyes narrowing, finally becoming aware of the glowing circle beneath her feet. "You... you _sick bastard_."

"How could you say that about me, Rita?" He held the blade steady, gazing at her with disgustingly fake, lonely eyes while caressing the metal like a sensual lover. "I'm a dear friend, after all, aren't I? Raven the Great? Your ol' _buddy, ol' pal_?"

The way the words left his lips was so... _wrong_.

"You're not him, you sick _fucker_," she spat out, disgusted. She hated the word, but she hated _him_ even more. All he responded with was a sickeningly satisfied sneer.

"Then," he stroked the blade lovingly one last time, "who am I?"

"_Alexei._" It hit the floor like it was acid.

"Oh?" His eyebrow quirked up, a toothy, mocking grin rising on his lips. It was the kind of unnatural expression that twisted the face of Schwann Oltorain into something ugly. "How could I be him when I look like Schwann Oltorain? My face, my clothes, my voice... I _am_ Schwann Oltorain. What makes you think that I'm Alexei?"

Rita glared, even as she felt the tip of the blade nick her skin. "The old man would never do something like... like what _you've_ done, you disgusting _piece of shit_." She jumped back, arms held out to cast. "And your disguise _sucks_."

Schwann's - or Alexei's - twisted into snarling rage, and Rita found herself wondering, without any logical thought, why he would get so insulted at such a remark. The words for _blade roll_ were running through her mind as she began to cast, watching cautiously as he, suddenly further away than she remembered, charged forward, sword raised.

In an instant, his eyes turned teal in colour, and she could see Alexei walk into her field of view behind him. Rita hesitated, startled, watching as Schwann stopped in front of her, hard gaze unwavering. She gasped, choking as Alexei smirked in the background. The glowing circle beneath her feet disappeared.

The cold metal of his sword felt foreign through her chest.

Rita staggered backwards and the captain followed her. His sword was gone, but she paid no mind to it. All she could do was stare at the newly carved hole in her chest where her heart was visibly beating furiously.

She watched, dazed, as Schwann stepped forward and ripped her heart out like it was an interference in a loose series of cords and tangled wires. It was still beating in his gloved hand.

"Wh..." she gurgled weakly, glancing at her now heartless chest cavity. She looked back at Schwann to see horror dawn in his eyes.

Alexei's shoulders heaved with maniacal laughter.

"Rita..." he whispered, strained and painfully heartbreaking. "What... I...?"

_You couldn't do anything_, her mind tried to whisper to him._ It's not your fault._ _Blame _Alexei_._

But he couldn't hear it. Anguish tore through his body, her heart having disappeared from his grasp. He looked at his trembling, bloody hands and gripped his head, letting out an agonized cry.

Rita watched him painfully, letting her feet bring her to him. "Raven," she said softly. He didn't look at her. "Raven," she tried again, placing a small hand on his cheek. Schwann looked at her with dull eyes, grim with acceptance. Gently, she let her hand fall to his blastia.

"I'm a monster..." he whispered, shaking his head. "Look at what I've done..."

"You're nothing like a monster." she hushed gently. Her hand stroked his blastia. "Don't worry. Everything... everything is going to be okay..."

"I'm sorry, Rita." She shook her head, smiling even as crystalline tears ran down both their cheeks.

"_O merciless conflagration..._" she began softly, "_burn the very souls..._"

Something struck the man in the background - he staggered, looking around wildly before fading away into nothing.

… Who was he, again? His name was on the tip of her tongue...

Rita couldn't feel anything but a soothing calmness that seemed to drape over her, warm and oddly comforting. The scent of books - something like _home_ - tickled her nose. Schwann smiled and placed his hands atop her head, leaning in towards her temple-

He shattered like a brilliant firework, shards of crystal floating in the air before slowly vanishing like twinkling stars.

Her fingers were disappearing. Rita shut her eyes tightly in panic, rubbing her translucent hands as if that would stop her from disappearing forever-

"... _Boo! Guess who, Rita darlin'!_"

Her eyes snapped open, lashes fluttering against something solid; slivers of sunlight shone from in between tan fingers. Quickly, she pried the hands away from her face.

"Awe, that's no fun, ya didn't even guess!"

A lump lodged in her throat as she stared at the rooftops of Zaphias from the top of the castle. Pink-blossomed branches hung overhead, showering the busy, packed city with flowers and petals.

"... What-" she swallowed, refusing - _afraid_ to look back. "What are you doing here, old man?"

"Hey, ya got it right!" He rested his chin on her head. He felt... much like the strange source of soothing warmth from... earlier before? No, that must have been a dream. "Me? Well, I'm just standin' here, enjoyin' the scenery, ya know?" Strangely enough, Rita didn't try to throw him off.

"I thought you were..." She looked down at her small hands mournfully.

Raven wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Naw, what are ya talkin' about, girl? I ain't leavin' ya anytime soon. I promised, right? None of us are."

"I..." Her hands closed and opened. "... Right..." Rita angled her foggy head toward his sleeve, trying to get a whiff of that familiar smell of books. The presence of other people - her friends - were behind her, as if they'd been there all along, all safe, all happy, all smiling. She closed her eyes and let the corner of her lips rise. "Right."

_x_

Raven bit the end of the string, detaching the needle and thread from his shirt as he finished stitching his button back onto his shirt. He inspected his work closely. That should do it... Hopefully, no one else but himself would be stripping him naked. Or stripping him half naked and tying him up, in Rita's case.

… No. Bad thoughts. _Bad._

Raven shook his head, muttering to himself as he put his things away into his bag. He was letting his mind wander off far too much again. He'd spent enough time - what, a whole year? - trying to ignore that _thing_ and push it as far enough away as he could. One whole year of hoping for it to die, waiting for it to leave, _remembering_ the past to forget _this_ - only none of it worked. Somewhere along the way, he'd realized that he didn't _want_ it to disappear. He _liked_ the feeling of being happy just watching her.

He let his bag drop close to the ground, hoping to keep it upright, but it fell over anyways, part of it deciding that underneath the bed was a cozy place. Something clattered, and Raven looked at it, confused for a second. He _did_ just zip it up... right? He pulled it out for a quick inspection: it was closed.

So... what was it?

He nudged his bag aside with his foot, dropping on all fours and lifting up the bed sheets just a little-

Aww, _gross!_ When was the last time anyone cleaned the dust out from under there? He reached in and grabbed the object closest to the edge, where the bunnies were less intimidating in size.

"Ugh," he made a face, blowing on the pen and throwing it over his shoulder. That wasn't it.

He lifted the sheets a little more this time, cringing at the way his fingers left marks in the thin layer of dust. Something unmistakably pink and larger than a pen caught his eye this time, and he pulled it out.

"Huh," was all Raven had to say as he lifted up a pair of pink-lensed goggles gingerly between his index finger and thumb. What were they doing there? Walking over to the washroom, he held them under the faucet and rinsed them off in a torrent of water. Now that he thought about it, Rita _had_ been patting her head an awful lot the entire day... Hm...

Wringing the elastic material out, then shaking the damn thing to get rid of excess water, Raven contemplated for all of half a second before pulling the accessory over his head and looking at his reflection in the mirror.

… He wasn't sure whether they looked good or weird on him. He stroked his chin, idly distracted. If Rita saw him now, she would probably set him on fire. But she wasn't here _now_, he thought smugly, eyeing the goggles on his reflection's head. He wondered what she would look like in something other than her normal clothes (or as normal as some of them were, which wasn't really, he supposed). What would she look like in his clothes?

… It was hard to tell. It looked weird, but kind of okay at the same time. If he looked at it this way, it was unflattering, but in _this_ way it was like they were hers. What would she look like in someone else's clothes? Raven let his mind wander for a few seconds, then pulled the goggles down over his eyes, curious at this one idea-

"Pfffft," left his lips; they wobbled slightly at the way her goggles covered his eyes and pressed tightly against his head. He pushed them up slightly, watching his hair move up (despite being in his regular ponytail). He looked like a deformed _mushroom_.

He pulled them off, subconsciously pocketed them, and gave a great yawn and a good stretch. He was tired, and he wanted to go to sleep and go far away at the same time, and he had these stupid feelings that plagued him like a stupid disease for this stupidly ingenious girl who was less than half his stupid age (and he'd already accepted it, but denied it all the same), and if she ever found out, she would call him stupid and beat him senseless with his own stupid _leg_.

And since all physical laws of the world got bent around Rita, he wouldn't be surprised if she somehow ripped off his leg, beat him with it, and then reattached it just like that without even _considering_ her actions or any consequences.

Metaphorically, of course.

Pushing his cheek out with his tongue, Raven pushed himself away from the washroom counter. It was time for him to stop stalling. His fingertips rapped on the wooden door as he pushed it aside, walking through to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder. Pushing the green curtains aside and opening the window, he placed his hands on the window sill...

… and paused.

Why was he pausing? He was entirely ready to climb down there. What was stopping him?

Ah, yes, of course. He had to see if the coast was clear first!

Dropping everything, he retreated back to open his door slowly, quietly. There was a lamp on somewhere, but he couldn't see exactly where. Tip-toeing forward, he peeked over the railing of the second floor (it was like a dais, really), where a lump of grey lay curled up on the couch.

How... unsurprising.

Raven let out a helpless sigh, a small endearing smile just barely creeping up on his lips. As quietly as he could, he clambered over the railing one leg at a time, lowering himself down to hang from the edge just close enough to the ground floor to land quietly.

Stairs were just so _overrated_ sometimes.

He glanced around the living room. Surely there was a blanket somewhere, right? He scratched his head. Or... maybe that was one wedged in between the seat and the arm rest by her feet. Was it? Yes it was.

Maneuvering himself around the books that littered the floor and careful not to wake her, he pulled the blanket out painstakingly slowly. He paused, glancing at her face with concern. Tear streaks marked her cheeks. Did she have a nightmare?

Against his better judgment (_she will wake up and _kill _you_), he held the blanket up to his chest and leaned over to wipe them away as gently as he could, careful not to wake her. He stilled as she inhaled deeply and stirred.

Raven exhaled after a few seconds of her even breathing. He glanced at the book in her lap and smiled upon recognizing the text. It was open to the page she'd been reading.

… Ah, Belius, the Duce of Nordopolica, an entelexeia... That had been a surprise. The poor princess sure took it hard after-

Rita started muttering something under her breath; he cringed and directed his attention back to the mage as she breathed in and flexed her hand. It sounded like the beginning of _crimson flare_, although, there was something a little... _off_ about it. Gentle? Tender? Sad? Something.

Either way, he didn't want to disappear in a pillar of fire. Quickly, Raven took the book and put it on the table, then draped the soft fabric, now partially warm from his own body heat, over her shoulders and up to her chin.

Her chant died down, then stopped, and slowly her brow unfurrowed. She breathed in and stirred, then nuzzled further into the blanket.

_Cute_.

He watched her warmly for another handful of seconds. Then, smile fading and hand through his hair, he headed to the stairs and back up to his room. His mind felt muggy with sleep and his feet were far too heavy for his liking. He stopped in the doorway, pausing midway from turning back to look at her.

Striding into his room, he slung his bag over his shoulder and leaped out the window.

**_x x_ x**

A/N: Aaaaand there we have it! The end of the story!

... just kidding. It's only been the first _day_, can you believe it? Man I spent too long on this one day. Still editing. Still proofreading. I will probably read and edit this chapter another three times after writing this, because I'm horrible at drawing things out and such and such. And so on. (yes, I did do another three sets of editing after writing all this, in fact.)

(Nyan cat makes me think of Rita. I don't know why.)

Insight time! I wasn't sure whether I wanted to end with dream or old-man-exit, so I tried switching them around and... well, I guess it just happened to turn out the way it did. I never actually planned on giving Rita such a strange dream, but it just kind of popped into my head and I went hm, okay. You'll note that she, quite often, isn't herself during her dream. Have you ever had a dream where you're someone else, or you just do something completely different from who you are? Dreams like to screw with us like that. (I mean since when did Halure's tree grow at the top of the Zaphias Castle?)

Also, the inside of Rita's house. Yes. I drew out little sketches of it: the inside is... kind of like what you might imagine in a mansion? haha. Large spacious room, one (or two...) set(s) of stairs leading up to that dais where you can look out onto the first floor? I hope I make sense. Augh. Maybe I should just get a deviantart and put up my doodle-sketch-things. bah.

I hope this is the last thing I say. Gosh, I talk too much. I've, uh, kind of _given up_ on replying to reviews because I talk too much. haha. I think I've probably scared all those whose reviews I've replied to. So um... Yes. I love you all. Thank you for your kind words and everything you have done (review/read/didn't like it)!

Nope, looks like that wasn't the last thing I had to say. Hopefully this is: I am a teenage girl. Attempting to write in the mindset of a... 39-year-old man? is difficult. I tried not to make him sound like a high school girl, haha. -slaps self- Time to stop talking!


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing that came to mind as Rita opened her eyes was that her leg really, _really_ hurt.

The second was the tumbled mess of foreign limbs (which she discovered were her _own_, thankfully, after about ten seconds of befuddled _huh? what?_) and blanket sprawled out on the floor.

The third was that wonderfully _delicious_ smell of breakfast.

"Ugh..." Rita groaned and sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and then her leg where her red striped stocking should have been. She cracked an eye open: just a scratch. "Stupid table," she muttered groggily, reaching down to pull her stocking back up from its bunched up place around her ankle. She glared at the coffee table, as if doing so would cause it to cower at her feet in fear.

Too bad that didn't work.

"Rise and shine, sunshine!" Raven sang out as he poked his head out of the kitchen archway.

… Was he wearing an apron? Moreover, where did it even come from? Last she knew, she didn't _think_ she had one...

"Sounded like that hurt," he pointed at the coffee table with the spatula in his hand. "You alright there, miss mage?"

"'m fine," she waved him off, sluggishly dragging herself up to drape the upper half of her torso onto the couch. She tugged the blanket half across her back, then attempted to find a more comfortable position.

… She was falling asleep again, only this time with her face in the couch and her ass in the _air_. Raven wondered if she was a bigger slob than he was at times.

He had to pause for a moment as he remembered the disarray of her old, book-littered shack of a home. Then, he shook his head.

… _Teenagers_.

"Up and about, girl. You've got breakfast ta' eat." Raven waved at her with the spatula, but she couldn't see it it anyway. She did, however, simply flap a sluggish hand at him. Raven rolled his eyes and exhaled, disappearing for a moment to turn the stove off.

Wiping his hands with a damp cloth, he walked up to the sleeping mage. "Hey. Wake up." When she did nothing, he flicked her rear with the fabric.

"_I'm up, asshole_," Rita surged up and backwards, fist striking his gut. Raven let out a whoosh of air.

… Oops. Hitting him that hard was unintentional. Honestly.

"Damn, girl," he winced. "You and your reflexes."

"I will blow you to pieces if you do that again, you-" she glared at him.

"Yes ma'am. Got it. Ol' Raven here's gonna do a little more thinkin' before he does somethin' he forgets he shouldn't do." He held his hands up in defense.

There were five seconds of glaring silence - and then Rita simply _hmph_ed and ambled around him in the direction of the nearest bathroom, wishing she could just go back to sleep in what _used_ to be a warm spot on the couch. Tiredly, she slipped a finger under her stocking and rubbed the spot on her leg again...

… and was surprised to find her hands sticky with something.

Well, crap.

Hurriedly, she shut the bathroom door behind her and twisted her torso and head at an awkward angle, trying to see the wound. Of course, that didn't work so great, so she tugged the sticking fabric lower and felt it again, wincing as her hand met more stickiness. She pulled open the drawers in the counter, getting blood on nearly everything she touched.

Pulling out the hand mirror Judith had given her some birthdays ago - which had come in a basket of bath salts and soaps and lotions and creams and all _kinds_ of girly crap Rita didn't use (but never had the heart to give away, choosing instead to leave it on the shelf of one of the bathrooms) - she angled the reflective object so that she could see the four inch scratch along the underside of her leg.

She ripped off a bundle of toilet paper from the roll and wet it some, dabbing at the injury to see how it was without dried blood covering it up. Roughly, she stretched the skin and winced with mild irritation as it stung, looking for the deepest area of the cut. Drops of red pooled out again. She must have hit the corner of her coffee table hard when she woke up. Who knew they were so sharp?

At least she didn't hit her head, she mentally sighed, dabbing again. She'd heard stories of people dying by falling in their sleep and hitting their heads on corners or edges of tables. She smiled sardonically in the mirror.

Imagine that. Rita Mordio, genius mage who saved the world with a bunch of weirdos, died in her own home by hitting her head on a table because she rolled off the couch in her sleep.

… Maybe she should move the table and couch further apart from each other.

She pulled her hand away from her leg and tossed the bloody tissues in the toilet, then ripped off some more and dabbed harder. More pressure, less blood, right? Rita _tsk_ed in annoyance when it didn't stop. Thoroughly vexed, the mage simply ripped off more tissues and held them against the wound, pulling her stocking back up to hold it in place, then went about her business and brushed her teeth with irritation. It stung. A lot. Way more than it should have.

Maybe she had some salve somewhere, or a roll of bandages, at least. Cotton and tape? An old tattered shirt she didn't wear any more?

No, she gave her rolls of bandages to her neighbour whose husband had gotten into a nasty fight with a wild beast. And she had cotton somewhere; she just needed to find it, first. She probably had an old shirt under some of her books, too.

Maybe she had some gels somewhere...

… No, she ate the last one yesterday because of-

If only Estelle were here, she mourned silently to her reflection. Only a day after the princess had left, and already she had hurt herself.

Rita shook her head. This was ridiculous. She'd gone years without needing a healer to fix every little paper cut or burn or dislocated shoulder - she was perfectly _fine_. All she had was just a little scratch... that was making its presence incredibly well known this very moment. Ugh.

Maybe she could cauterize it herself.

She quashed the idea quickly and opened the door, walking out. It was just a tiny little scratch! She was being stupid, and there was no room for stupidity in her brain - that was Raven's territory. And Karol's. And Yuri's.

"Rita darlin', don't let yer food get cold now!" Raven called out. She sighed as she made her way around the corner, then stopped in front of the table with a raised brow. There was a bowl of rice, still steaming lightly, with another bowl of soup and three smaller dishes of fish, dried seaweed, and a soft boiled egg. He set down a cup of hot tea beside it.

"What's this?" Rita asked skeptically as she sat down. She picked up her chopsticks, fumbling around with her hand until she got it somewhat right. She clacked them a few times, then, satisfied with her grip, glanced up at him.

"Weeeelp, m'dear, this is a little somethin' of a Yumanju breakfast I picked up a while ago." He grinned, giving her a thumbs up. "A bowl a' hot rice, miso soup, an' fish, with dried _nori_ seaweed ta go on top of it if ya want. The egg, ya can take out and slice open with those chopsticks over yer rice." He pulled the apron off his head and draped it over the back of a chair, which he graciously plopped down onto. Then, leaning on an elbow with a cheek in his palm, he said, "I figured ya gotta have somethin' different from sandwiches fer breakfast, right?"

She eyed the fish almost warily, prodding at it with her chopsticks. Her grey, oversized sweater hung loosely over her frame, revealing one smooth, creamy shoulder and the strap of her tank top. Idly, Rita brought a hand up to rub slowly at the base of her collar. Sleeping on the couch had always put a crick in her neck, and last night had been no exception - especially after waking up on the floor.

The movement made her sweater slide lower down her shoulders. The tip of raised scar tissue peeked out from under her clothing. Raven's eyes had just barely missed it when she tugged the sweater up by the collar, her voice cutting into his thoughts. "- okay?"

"Huh?"

"I said, are you sure this fish is okay?" She eyed it with mild distaste, not paying him any attention. Fish was never something she'd been fond of, but somehow she'd learned to tolerate it over the years. Especially since that one time on their travels when the only meat they'd had left was that of the slimy, stinky little bastards from the waters.

And the way Estelle had tried to cook it the first couple of days...

"Fis- yeah, of course it's okay! Raven the Great cooked it, after all!"

"That's why I asked," she muttered, giving him a pointed look. He watched her take her first bite - at which her eyebrows had almost unnoticeably raised, but he saw it, he did! He was damn good at watching people and _proud_ - then the second, and the third. At the fourth, he pushed himself off the chair and away from the table, moving to the sink to wash the dishes. He glanced out the window idly, letting his mind wander.

It had taken him ten steps into the dark, last night, before he'd stopped, turned around, and walked right back up to her front door. Why did he do it? He could have made his escape and run to an inn on the other side of town, where he'd have a head start in the morning to leave for Deidon Hold, or somewhere like that. He wouldn't have had to face the fiery mage until the next time she saw him - which would probably be right before she killed him - but maybe he'd have been fine with that.

As long as she didn't discover his stupid, unexplainable, freakish feelings.

… But then, that wasn't right to call it freakish, because she was a young, respectable woman who'd made her place in the world at an impressively young age, and she was brilliant and beautiful and incredibly brave, and any man in the world would have to be crazy to not see that she-

But it was all right to call it freakish if it was coming from him, because he was too old for her and she was too young for him and they were supposed to be _comrades_. Friends, even, if Rita would ever call it that.

It was just so much easier to run away from his problems.

"_Thanks for not being dead."_

… But maybe not this time.

The circular motions of his soapy hands moved effortlessly on their own as his lips tugged downwards.

Something about Rita had looked so... _fragile_, when she'd said that. And when she didn't blow him up yesterday morning... what had happened in the year he'd stayed away?

Maybe he was running away by staying here? It certainly would have been hard to find somewhere to go, especially once Rita had found out and decided to track him down. Once something came into Rita's grasp and _escaped_... well, it only whet her hunter's appetite. Of course, there was no _hunting_ for Rita, because she had the brains, the survival instincts, the equipment, and the transportation to scour the world. It was more like a game of cat and mouse, really. Just wait and pounce, and he was the mouse.

...Somehow, the thought of Rita waiting patiently to jump him was turning him-

No! There was to be none of that train of thought while he could help it. He furrowed his brow, watching the foamy suds swirl down the drain. What had he been thinking about? Rita, and... preventing the revelation of certain issues that started with an _f_ and ended with _eelings_. Yes. That was it.

Where could he have gone in the middle of the night, anyway?

Ah, well, he mused to himself, it didn't seem like much harm would be done if he didn't go. It was easier to stay in one place, anyway, and love someone who didn't love you back.

He'd done it once before, after all.

"-hey, old man," Rita's voice cut him out of his thoughts..

"Yeah?" he responded, rinsing the last of the soap out. Flicking his hands into the sink, he reached for a dry towel and turned around to face her, leaning back against the counter.

She was chewing slowly with the ends of her chopsticks up to her lips. "Do you," she swallowed, distracted. "Do you have any gels on you?" When he paused and eyed her with an unreadable expression, she felt her face heat up in unwanted self-awareness. "What?" she demanded defensively , putting her utensils down with a loud _clack_.

He watched her for a handful of uncomfortable seconds, still patting his hands dry while she fidgeted. Then, out of the blue: "... Nah, I ain't got any." He let the towel drop onto the counter, resting his hand on the white fabric. "Now, Rita, if ya got a sweet tooth-" he began to chastise her.

"No, I'm not-!" she denied indignantly. "I just-" she put a hand to her forehead in an exasperated motion, mind racing for a reason. "-I ran out the other day and I forgot to stock up."

"See now, if ya didn't have such a big sweet too-"

"Shut up. No, that's not it. God, you are so- do you have any salve?" She looked at him, elbow resting on the table, palm upturned in the air.

"Say what?" He rubbed his chest distractedly, close to where metal met skin - out of habit, more than anything, but her eyes narrowed anyway.

"Is it acting up?" she demanded, standing.

"What? Oh, no, no, no, darlin', no - sit down, sit-" He waved his hand, stopping her. "Nothin' like that. I'm fine, remember? Yer work's perfect as ever." She sank back down slowly into her chair, still wary. "Anyway- salve, ya said? Think I might have some a' that in my bag. Somewhere." One shoulder went up and down. "Why do ya need it?"

She shot him a glare as he briefly scanned her. "Eyes to yourself, old man." she snapped.

"Just checkin' ta see if ya got any cuts, milady," Raven inclined his head slightly. Luckily for her, he was on the opposite side of her injury. "Don't see why yer askin' fer it, though." He pushed himself off the counter, circling to her other side.

"I said, eyes to yourself," she bit out, hackles raising. He ignored her, though, eyes scanning her methodically like a doctor scanning his patient.

Curious as to how irritated she could get before she decided to blow him up - but mainly just checking for bruises, really - he bent down and straightened out a finger, poking her in the shoulder. Her eyebrow twitched, and her chair scraped against the floor as she shifted away from him.

"Gotta make sure ya ain't hurt, darlin'," He furrowed his brow when she spared him a glance and, although simmering, didn't move to throw anything at him. "Where exactly are ya hurt, anyway, Rita?"

"I never said I hurt myself." She reached for her chopsticks, contemplating over their potential stabbing properties.

"It's kinda obvious if ya want some salve right now, girl. Was it from this mornin', when ya conked yerself somewhere rollin' off the couch?"

His eyes followed as her hand slipped down subconsciously to slip under the edge of her stocking, where he could see that it was stained with darker splotches in one misshapen and lumpy area - as if she had stuffed it with something-

_Ohhh_.

Well, _that_ was territory he wasn't going to breach.

"Got it," he said. Her eyes flashed towards him in what could only be described as an _"oh, shit."_ expression. "You finish eatin' while I dig through my stuff. Clean that up," he pointed to her leg, "and then you can get yourself fixed up. Unless you want some help and a lovely massage-?" He gave her a devilish grin, stroking the stubble on his chin.

"Grow up," she muttered, kicking his shin. There was no hostility or venom in the action, though, he noted.

"This old fogey's too old fer growin'," he snickered. "Maybe you should be the one growin' up, short stuff."

She looked up and glared.

"Yes ma'am, goin' now." Raven made an "_OK_" sign with one hand, fingers splayed out with the thumb and forefinger touching in a circle, before turning around and leaving Rita alone to mull in her thoughts.

With a sigh, Rita scratched at her leg and finished the rest of her meal.

_x_

The salve, Rita had discovered, hissing painfully as she rubbed it onto her leg, stung like a _bitch_.

"You alright in there, Rita?" came Raven's muffled voice from behind the bathroom door.

She breathed in deeply as the feeling of pins and needles prickled along the cut, before the pain left way for a cool, tingling sensation on her skin. Rita exhaled slowly, looking up and closing her eyes in relief. "Y-yeah, I'm fine."

She could hear him grimace through the door. "I told ya it was gonna sting..."

"Yeah, I know," she replied, turning the little jar of ointment in her hand. It was a small, compact container the size of her palm and three fingers' width high. Its dark purple colour was nice - especially since it was a ceramic, she thought idly, and good for an ink pot.

Carefully, she held it up to her nose and sniffed it. It smelled a little bit like mint, but nothing else.

Snapping the lid back on and twisting it closed, Rita got up from her seat on the edge of the bath tub and peered at her reflection in the mounted full-length mirror, twisting to the side to see her leg. To her surprise, the wound was already looking less like a wound and more like a scar.

She opened the door to find Raven, who cracked an eye open at her, crouched against the wall with his arms behind his head "Here, thanks." She held the jar out to him, which he plucked gently from her hands. Then, she bent down to pull her stocking back up.

"Nonono, missy, we'll have none a' that." He stopped her with a gentle hold on her wrist. She looked at him, startled and turning pink as she came face-to-face with a pair of bright eyes. "Ya can't go coverin' that up just yet, else it'll get all over yer clothes. Give it about ten minutes, and you should be good ta go. And it won't even scar," he added.

"Why?" she muttered, feeling much too aware of the lack of distance between them. She pulled back slightly, and he let go of her. Straightening, she resisted the urge to scratch her leg.

"That's just how the medicine works, kid," he shrugged, bracing his hands against the wall to push himself up. "Shoulda started healin' already, right? Havin' yer clothes over it will just rub it offa yer skin, and then what? No healin', that's what." He rubbed a crick in his neck.

Rita threw her hands into the air in an apathetic action and began to turn away. Maybe the idiot would get the hint and go do whatever it was that old farts did while she studied how to fully convert his blastia heart now that he was actually _here_-

"Oh, that's right, hey," Raven spoke up again, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a pair of pink-lensed goggles, saying: "Found these under the bed last night. Dunno what the hell ya were doin' there but that's where they were. Here," he nudged them towards her. "Take em. You've been lookin' for them, right?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" she asked with a hint of suspicion. She took the goggles out of his grasp, its clear, pink lenses turning the gears in her head. "Thanks."

"Weeeell, girl, when you've keen eyes of observation like I do, nothin' slips outta yer sight." She gave him a pointed stare. "Every once in a while ya keep hittin' yer head for those things." he pointed.

"... Oh."

Raven yawned, then put a hand on her head. "Well, if you'll excuse me, Raven the Great is gonna go take a nap, since the young landlady here doesn't seem to want me leaving the house at all."

The corners of Rita's lips tugged down. "I never said that." Her thumb tapped distractedly on the lenses.

"Well ya sure implied it," he ruffled her hair and she batted his hand away.

"Stop that." She glared at him threateningly. "You're allowed to leave the house, just not with all your stuff to run away again." The outline of his blastia could be traced faintly through his shirt. Something clear...

Tap. Tap.

Raven wasn't exactly liking the look on her face; it very clearly screamed out _I'm going to dissect you._ "... Alright, then, well, now," he took a step back. "I'm just gonna... go nap now. Maybe I'll even go take a nap in the good ol' tree, actually. Clear skies, fresh air, breezes and sunshine-" He stopped mid-sentence as Rita suddenly took hold of his wrist and began dragging him. "What? What? What's goin' on? What'd I do?"

But she wasn't listening. "Of course! When the air is condensed..." she muttered something incoherent. "... and the crystals are clear! But where did I...?"

He found himself being pulled into her bedroom as she shoved her door open. "Uh, Rita, dearest, little unclear as to what's-"

"Sit-" she ordered, paying him no attention and shoving him towards the bed. There were enough books on it that there was hardly any room for him to sit anyway. "I should have some samples from the last..." She pulled open drawers and slammed them shut, one after another. In the corner was a work table piled up with tools and beakers. "Take off your shirt."

Raven gaped at her. "What?"

She looked up to glare at him briefly. "Unbutton it or something! Just show me the blastia!"

He did as he was told at the lack of blush on her face. Rita was in work mode now; stalling meant an angry working Rita, and an angry working Rita meant...

Well, who knew what she would do to him these days? He'd gotten to midway down his shirt when Rita finally pulled something out. Green crystals clinked around as she dumped them onto the table. Turning to him, she ignored his hands and tugged on his shirt to reveal the core. He tensed when her nose almost met blastia. Holding up one crystal to the red orb, she _tsk_ed and stepped back to grab another one.

"Rita, darlin', hello? Little confused about the manhandlin' here. Wanna tell me what's goin' on?"

She gave him a sideways glance. "There's something I haven't tested."

"Oh, so I'm a guinea pig now?" That sure made him feel better. "What is it ya haven't tested? It's gotta be important, with all the space ya don't seem ta be givin' me right now."

"A theory that just popped into my head. It might work, but..." She held up a dull, blue-green crystal to the light coming from the window. "No, that's too cloudy," she muttered to herself, ignoring his discomfort.

"A theory? One that popped into your head? Just now, just like that?" At her lack of response, he continued. "Alright, if you're not gonna explain anything... What are those shiny rocks ya got there, then?"

"They're crystals from the aer krene. I had some of them extracted so I could study them." She held a few up to the light again and turned on him. "Hold these."

"Yes ma'am," he muttered. "Aye aye, captain."

"Hold _still_," she commanded when he shifted. She grabbed his shoulder to keep him from moving (and vaguely noted in the back of her mind that he was fairly solid). "Hold these close to the core - like that - yeah, now just..." She scrutinized them closely, holding each one up to the blastia core in his chest. Raven was more worried about the fact that she was practically standing in between his legs and not caring.

After a few moments, she sighed and let her shoulders drop, patting her head for her... Where were her goggles _now_? "It's no use. None of these crystals are clear enough." She held out her hands.

"Clear enough for what?" He forced his mind to think straight enough to reply, then let the crystals drop into her open palms.

"These things are solidified chunks of aer," she held one up in front of him, "almost like mana. The clearer they are, the better. These ones are too dull, too... murky. See?" Now that he looked at it, it was more cloudy than clear, though light still shone through it. "If we want to finish the conversions, we're going to need the clearest ones we can get."

"... Okaaay, so where can we get them?" He fidgeted, trying to move as far back on the bed as he could without books digging into him. Rita took note of this and rolled her eyes, pivoting around to put her samples back.

"That's the problem," she replied. "Most aer krenae are similar to each other; they only have slight variations in density and concentration. I'd be lucky to find crystals that are clear enough." She crossed her arms. "The only thing I can think of that would work is-"

"An apatheia," he finished for her, buttoning up his shirt.

"Right. And we can't exactly _make_ new apatheia." She scratched her leg.

"You can probably pull that up now," he pointed at her stocking. She did just that. "So what do ya suggest we do about it, then?"

"I don't know," she replied offhandedly. "I'll wait for word from Estelle and Judith to come in if they find anything. It shouldn't take more than a few days. Then we'll figure out what to do."

"Hmmm," Raven hummed, picking up a book and flipping it open. Another one of her books on hearts, he noted. He flipped to a page that had drawings of his blastia scribbled in beside the text. Little arrows in red ink pointed to different parts and tubes. Her writing was a messy scrawl, not girly with the i's dotted with hearts, the way some teenage noble girls liked to write.

He flipped to another page where there were more quick sketches of the blastia metal. Formulas lined the page with numbers and all kinds of symbols. There was a little note in the corner that was somewhat legible, along with a crudely drawn stick figure with a ponytail hanging from a noose.

_When I find you, I'm going to kill you!_

He grimaced. "I can see you've thought well of me," he showed her the note and the drawing at her curious expression.

"Well, what do you expect when some idiot runs off without saying anything?" she muttered defensively. "Especially when he has unfinished work stuck in his chest."

Raven took more offense to that than he should have. He snapped the book shut. "So, what, that's all I am? Some kind of experimental toy that's not even human?" he said, a little more harshly than he intended.

"I- what? That's not what I meant!" she sputtered. Where the hell was this coming from?

He leaned forward with a glare, book in his hand pointing at her accusingly. White rooms flashed in his mind, along with beeping machines and wine-coloured eyes and cold, numbing pain. "Then what did you mean? That I'm efficiently useless? Or does my life not matter, so long as your work is complete? You don't care if I really die, do you? You just want to get your research done and over with to satisfy your pride and boost your ego. Is that it?"

"No! That's not what I'm saying at all! I've been trying to save your _life_, you idiot!" Where was he coming up with this crap?

The images of her dream ran through her head - of Schwann, shattering into shards of crystal, his blastia, the feeling of tears running down her face when he disappeared and she _destroyed_ him, and the whispering voices in the back of her head saying _whywhywhy why did you dream of him, why did you kill him_-

He should have stopped himself a long time ago, but it was already too late. He scoffed. "That's what Alexei said he was doing. _Saving my life._ Are you trying to become just like him now?-"

She slapped him. Hard.

Silence filled the air except for Rita's angry breathing. Raven didn't even turn to look her in the face, didn't bring up a hand to soothe the sting in his face. He deserved it, after all.

"_He_ was trying to use you as a _tool_, you _son of a bitch_." She ground out, feeling the sting in her own palm. She was already starting to feel sorry for hitting him. "I'm trying to give you back your _life_, and you just go _running around the world_, using up your life force to _power_ this damn thing! And maybe, just _maybe_ it could have been finished by now, so I didn't have to worry about your stupid, moronic ass DYING before I could help you!"

He turned to her, but didn't meet her eyes. His anger had escaped him the instant she slapped him. All that was left now was guilt.

"If your life meant nothing," she said, softer this time, but coldly, "you wouldn't be sitting here, and I wouldn't have spent all these years trying to fix your blastia."

Quietly, she padded out the room. Raven brought a hand up to rub his face briefly and dropped it again. He went too far, comparing her to Alexei. That was probably one of the worst things he could have said.

He ran his hands through his hair, face outlined with regret. What an idiot he was. Why didn't he shut up when he had the chance?

He looked up as the door was pushed open and Rita re-entered the room, this time carrying a small fabric pouch filled with ice. "Here," she pushed it against his cheek none too gently. "Hold on to this." she commanded.

His hand reached up to hold it against his face. Rita hopped up to sit on the table, clearing room for herself first. "... I'm sorry about what I said." he muttered. "I didn't mean any of it. And you're nothing like Alexei."

Rita exhaled, letting the rest of her anger fade away. "It's not your fault. I should have remembered how much it bothered you to show your blastia." She gestured with her arm. "And I realized that maybe you got upset because Alexei never really treated you like an actual person, and I was never good with words, so..." She scratched the back of her head. "... I'm sorry." she apologized begrudgingly.

He cracked a small grin for her sake. "What's this? The great mage is apologizin' to an old fogey like me?"

She threw a paper ball at his head. "Shut up." She smiled faintly.

"Will do."

* * *

><p>AN: ... I'm back! Kind of.

Here's something I've been needing to finish for a while now. I had all sorts of great ideas in Cuba - only, they weren't for Blast Heart. graagh. But nevertheless, I tried to write something up that was hopefully satisfying enough for you.

Also, have you ever had one of those injuries where you get hurt and you look at it, but you're not bleeding? And then five minutes later you remember it, take a look, and it's just kind of bleeding _everywhere_? That's kind of what Rita did. Yep.

Thanks for waiting for so long! And for all the reviews and just reading this. You guys are great.


	5. Chapter 5

When Flynn heard quiet noises coming from his office, he paused midreach for the door handle. It certainly didn't sound like Yuri, whose silent presence was usually found in the shape of a sleeping lump on the couch in the corner of the room (when he was _not_ in Dahngrest, or gallivanting around the city with the princess), nor did it sound like the pacing footsteps of a restless Sodia. Instead, it sounded like a... shuffling, of some sort, like rustling papers and pattering heels.

He scratched his head and stepped into his office; Estellise was the last person he expected to see poking around the room, but there she was, papers in hand and dust on her dress.

"L-Lady Estellise?"

"Oh-!" There was a soft thud as the princess dropped the book she was pulling from the shelf. It landed on her foot and he heard a hiss of pain.

"A-are you alright, Lady Estellise?" Flynn rushed forward to her aid, his armoured boots clanking loudly against the floor.

"Yes! Yes, I'm fine. thank you." She declined his extended arm. The princess dusted herself off and smiled politely, inclining her head. "Is there something you need, Flynn?"

Flynn paused for a moment, considering for a second that maybe he was in the wrong room on the opposite end of the castle. "I'm... just wondering as to why you're in my office without having called for me, Lady Estellise."

"Estelle! You're too formal again, Flynn!" she huffed. Lady Estellise _this_, Estellise _that_, your Highness her gosh darned _tush_. "I'm looking for things - drawings or notes and such of the like. Have you seen any?"

Flynn darted a quick glance at the papers on his desk. "Um..."

She put her hands on her hips in her pretty little scolding way. "Not those ones!"

"I-I'm sorry, Estellise, I didn't mean to offend you..." He faltered when she started giggling behind her hand.

"Hehehe. You need to lighten up, Flynn," Her hands were clasped together in that terribly polite habit of hers. "I'm not offended, not at all."

Relaxing a little, he crossed his arms. _This girl..._ "Princess, I think you've been around Yuri too much."

"That's impossible," she hummed, turning around. "You're just too uptight."

Flynn sighed. _Damn that Yuri... _"No, Princess, I don't think I'm 'too uptight,' as you put it..." He watched as she wandered around the room, pulling books out from the shelf at random and leafing through their pages, then replacing them and reaching for the next. When she started peering behind the bookshelf, he asked, "What exactly is it you're looking for, Estellise?"

Estelle blew the dust off of one cover. "I'm looking for secrets."

"Secrets?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!" She flipped through a few pages, then put it back. "Things that Alexei might have left behind that went unnoticed." She rustled the papers in her hand. "I wrote down notes of what Rita wanted me to search for, and she gave me some of her own notes and sketches that could possibly match up with his work, or what his diagrams may look like."

He missed the smallest grimace when she leafed through Rita's papers (her penmanship was often atrocious, that much Flynn could vouch for), and pulled off his gauntlets. "My lady, this room has already been searched through. There is nothing other than what we have given to Lady Mordio. I assure you, if anything more is found, we will alert you immediately."

"There's nothing wrong with checking more than two or three times, Flynn," the corners of her lips tugged down slightly. "Especially with a different pair of eyes every so often. The last time we searched the castle, we'd asked everyone to help out. I spoke with Judith a few days ago when we were at Rita's, and she gave me the idea that..." she trailed off.

Flynn got the hint and finished for her: "... That there are still men who have kept Alexei's work hidden?"

Estelle nodded grimly. "'Sometimes things are hidden right under your nose,' Judith told me. Considering how true that can be," she thought back to the incident four years ago, "I guess I'm just... well, playing it safe, I suppose."

This book was heavy, and the metal tipped corners had left scratches across the polished wood.

"Let me help you with that," he appeared beside her and pulled out the heavy tome. The corners scraped against the wood lightly.

"Hmm," Estelle tapped a finger to her bottom lip. "I feel like I've seen a book like this before. I'm not sure where, though..."

"Really? " Flynn asked.

Estelle shook her head. "It may have just been a similar book. What does it say inside?"

Flynn opened its pages, scanning symbols and letters without comprehension. There were diagrams of all kinds of machines, including blastia. Some of them definitely looked familiar, but then the next page had...

He furrowed his brow. This definitely would have gone to Rita - or Witcher, or even one of the imperial mages - had he found it, whether or not Rita had already read it before. Had there been something overlooked last time? "I... don't know... Is this in another language?"

"I'm... I'm not sure..." She pointed at a section. "This section isn't, but," her finger slid across the page, "this looks like it is. It's... strange. Who is the author?"

"Hm..." Flynn turned to the front page. "_Judais_," he read out loud. "No last name." Or was it no first name?

Estelle skimmed over the pages as he flipped through. There were equations running down the page - or at least they looked like equations. There were letters and numbers and symbols that she was unfamiliar with. A sketch of what looked like a large machine was roughly drawn in. Written in the center of the circle was one word. _Hermes_.

"Wait!" Flynn nearly dropped the book as Estelle exclaimed. "There, it says Hermes. Could there be a relation between the author of this book and Hermes?"

"I... suppose," Flynn looked thoughtful. "Perhaps he was referring to a Hermes blastia?"

Estelle nodded. "There's a chance that may be."

The knight's eyes followed the lines of equations, both half and finished. If Hermes was well known for his secrets and developed blastia, then maybe this _Judais_...? "Could these be codes?"

"Perhaps," she mumbled, flipping the pages. "Does this look... Krityan to you?" Her hand smoothed over the printing on the inside of the back cover.

"Let me see," she moved her hand to the side so he could see. "... Somewhat. It doesn't look completely like it, though..."

"I suppose we could always ask someone."

"I don't know if you want people to see some of these designs, your Highness. It's not just barrier blastia in here; these are weapons." He showed her one of many pages. There was a sketch of an automated arm-weapon powered by blastia in three different angles.

"You're right. Then... we could ask Judith, right? If I remember correctly, she knew quite a bit about the Hermes blastia when we were on our travels, and if there's any relation between these and the Hermes blastia, maybe she can help. And Rita should be able to make sense of everything." She _papped_ her fist in her hand. "Yes! We'll send letters to the both of them..."

Flynn moved across the room with Estelle and shut the book, setting it on his desk. "I believe Lady Mordio is still in Halure, but Lady Judith is travelling?" He crossed his arms, thinking. There were dirty prints on the cover, but both his and Estellise's hands were free of dirt. They almost looked like grease stains.

Estelle looked troubled for a minute. "Then... we'll bring them over here?" she suggested. "Hopefully it won't be too much trouble for them, though I'm not sure how we'll get in contact with Judith..."

"Fair enough," the commandant nodded. "Perhaps Lady Judith will stop by the castle after her travels."

"Yes!" Estelle smiled. "In the meantime, maybe Rita and Raven can stay in the castle with us."

"Raven?" Flynn paused. "Is he under Lady Mordio's care right now?"

Estelle tsked. "Rita. Her name is Rita, Flynn. And yes, he is."

"Are you sure the both of them won't object? If they have important matters at hand, I don't want to rush them into travelling here."

"I think it'll be fine, Flynn. Rita will want to take a look at it, and Raven... won't have much say in whether or not she brings him with her." she smiled wryly.

Flynn chuckled. "I suppose you're right."

"Then it's decided," the princess declared. "I'll write a letter to Rita and we'll try to figure out if any of these notes can be of help." She gasped, as if suddenly remembering something. "Oh, but wait! I think Rita said she would come to the castle in about a week-"

She was interrupted by a knock on the door before it opened. "Sir," a feminine voice spoke. There was a pause, then "Lady Estellise."

They nodded. "Sodia." Flynn addressed his lieutenant.

"Captain Qyburn has returned from Heliord earlier than expected. His reports are-"

"His reports are sitting on my desk. I ran into him in town earlier today; I will read them in due time."

"As you will." She nodded. "His squad is in the main hall awaiting orders. Qyburn himself would like to speak with you today."

Flynn rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Tell Qyburn I am unable to meet with him today; send him my regards, and let him know that I will arrange a time with him tomorrow or after. He and his squad are dismissed. It must have been a tiring journey from Heliord, and no doubt he and his men would like to rest."

"The captain insisted that he see you today." _Insisted_ meant more like he tried to command it and stare her down. Captain Qyburn was older than Flynn - forty or fifty odd years? - and almost believed himself higher ranked than the commandant. Almost, but it was not _age_ that guaranteed a man's ranking.

"Tell him I will see what I can do, if it please him," he sighed, "but I doubt I will be able to make time today." Then he smiled. "You've worked hard today, lieutenant. You're dismissed. Go rest and relax for the rest of the day; you deserve it."

The corners of her lips tilted upwards, just barely, and she nodded "The same goes for you, sir."

Flynn only chuckled. "Not today, I'm afraid. I still have much to do." Sodia brought her hand up to her chest in a soldier's salute, then shut the door behind her.

"Captain Qyburn?" Estelle questioned. "He sounds familiar..."

Flynn turned. "He was one of the men in the commandant's - Alexei's - squad during the Great War, up to a few weeks before the incident at Zaude. I don't think he was very close to the former commandant himself, but... well, we're still unsure of how much each of Alexei's squad members knew."

"I see," she looked down at the book, its hardcover a deep hunter green. "Do you think he knew what was going on, after the Great War?"

"You mean with Captain Schwann?" He crossed his arms. "It's possible, but so far we've found no evidence that points to it, and his actions don't betray him - if he did in fact take part in Alexei's plans."

"That, and Alexei's schemes a few years ago."

"We don't know," Flynn confessed. "If he did, he's very good at pretending that he didn't."

"Right," she nodded.

There was an amiable silence in the room for a few seconds. The clock ticked on as Estelle fingered the brass corners of the book.

Something about that bothered him.

Flynn glanced over to the shelf. What was it? His eyes flickered to the corners. The fingerprints on the cover belonged to a hand larger than his. Just as he took a step toward the bookshelf, there was another knock at the door. "Hello? Is anyone in here?" a muffled voice questioned.

"You may enter." Flynn stated.

"Ah, commandant! I thought I might find you here," a short, stoutly man walked in, his bald crown shining in the light. "Lady Estellise! What a pleasant surprise."

"Lord Emmond," Princess and knight greeted. Estelle smiled at the noble and bowed her head. "What can I do for you?"

"Ah, yes, I came to have a chat with you, of course! I know our meeting is supposed to be in a quarter-hour, but I thought to save you the hassle and come to you early myself! I hope I'm not a burden to some important matters...?" he trailed off, glancing at Estelle.

"Not at all," the princess reassured. She gestured to the knight. "I was simply asking the commandant for help searching for a book I had misplaced. This book right here, in fact." She patted the thick volume. "I was just about to leave when you knocked on the door."

"Of course, of course! Please don't let me get in your way, your highness!" The short, balding man laughed merrily, his jowls jiggling.

Estelle smiled; Flynn made no indication that what she'd said was a lie. "I'm afraid I must be on my way. Lord Emmond. Commandant." She nodded to each of them, clutching the book. "Thank you again for the help, Flynn."

"It was of no consequence," Flynn bowed. Estelle left the room, and the noble turned to the knight.

"A fine princess, she is!" Lord Emmond slapped Flynn on the back. "Ah, commandant, my boy, I know I may be asking for much, but my boy has been wanting to join the knights lately, and I..."

The man's voice died down as Estelle shut the door and walked down the hallway. Lord Emmond was a boisterous man. She did not particularly dislike him, but he was the type of man who did not seem to understand the term _personal space._ He was, at times, rather nosey, and liked to pry in other people's business when it came to court gossip.

She turned right, then left, and right again, the halls of the castle committed to memory. This was the storage room; over there was the knights' mess hall; in the next intersection, there was a statue of Alexander the Great, the fourth commandant in the history of Zaphias.

As she rounded the corner, there were Captain Qyburn's men, looking restless and weary after their long trek from Heliord. Many of them had taken off their heavy armour to be relieved of the weight. Some of them stood around chatting each other up idly; others sat on the ground with their helmets off. Estelle walked by and greeted whomever she passed.

A pair of eyes flickered to her book, then at the princess when she turned to greet a man. He bowed his head, and she resumed on her way.

_x_

"Rita, I'm boooooored."

"Go find something to do."

"But there's nothing to dooooooo!"

"Go sleep."

"But I ain't tired."

"Then go do something."

"But I'm boooooored!"

Her patience wearing thin, Rita grit her teeth. How old did Raven have to be until he stopped acting like a child? It must have been the tenth time he had complained to her today, and she had a feeling he wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"Ritaaaaaa-"

"_What?_" she snapped. Her pencil lead had broken, her sharpener was out in the living room, and the rest of her stationery was outside, too...

Raven looked up from his place on the floor with a yawn; lying down on a rug can _really_ get a man sleepy, sometimes. "... I'm bored."

"Go _do_ something," she growled, erasing the stupid mark on her paper. "I've got books. Tons of books. Go read one."

"But they're all boring!" the archer protested. He scratched his head. "No offense, hun, but really, they are. All ya got are textbooks written by ol' cronies."

She glowered. "Those _ol' cronies_," she made quotation marks with her fingers, "are researchers who studied anything and everything, from healing to blastia to the human body."

He hummed, drumming his fingers on his abdomen. "Doesn't mean they're any more interestin', darlin'."

"Yeah, well, you're not interesting either." Except maybe for the tale of Casey that he _still_ wouldn't tell her.

"Girl, you know I'm as interesting as they get." Raven winked. He rubbed his chest and scrunched his face when she scrutinized him. "Don't stare, Rita. That's rude."

Rita chucked her eraser at him. "Idiot."

"Hey, ouch! Right in the gut; his poor old man is bruising!"

She ignored his plea for help. "If you're so bored, why don't you go make something to eat? You can do something useful for once instead of bothering me when I'm working." she retorted.

"Nah, I don't really _feel_ like it." he rolled onto his back. "We've got leftovers in the fridge anyways, ya know."

"Then don't complain to me about being hungry like this morning."

"I can't help it, though. Whinin's one of my skills." He gave her a thumbs up - more like a thumbs sideways from his lying position.

"If only keeping your mouth shut was one of them..." she muttered.

"Hey now, that's cruel!"

"Good!"

Raven sighed. "Can't please ya, can I?" he waited for a response and got a glare. "Nope. What's a guy to do?"

"Keep quiet, for one."

"Well that's outta the que- hey, where ya goin?" He sat up as Rita marched to the door. "Ya ain't leavin me, are ya?" he cried in mock distress.

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the pillow on her bed and threw it at him. "My pencil is broken. Unless you can sharpen it to with your hands, I'm going to need my stuff - which is out in the living room."

"Mmph. Fine." Raven said, catching the projectile in his hands. He fluffed the pillow and lay back down. "If you could get me a glass of water, though, that'd be nice. Throat's a little parched." He licked his lips.

"Get it yourself," she muttered.

"Thanks, hun." he smiled. Rita _hmph_ed and shut the door behind her.

Things had gone back to normal after their little _fight_ five days ago; if anything, Raven was whinier than before.

It was strange, having the archer around for company. Rita hadn't been around Raven alone for so long; they had always travelled as a group with the others, and there had always been someone else to talk to, or work with, or just be around instead of him and the wall and her work.

There were books scattered on the floor by her couch, but Rita stepped around them. Raven was... strange, to put it. He wasn't entirely unwelcome in her home, of course, but that didn't necessarily mean he was _completely_ welcome in it, either. In fact, his company was... kind of nice, since all projects were either already in progress, complete, or up to date; lately she'd just been turning over future prospects in her mind. Coming up with new ideas while she still could, anyway.

Of course, she would welcome the company of her friends any day, whether they knew her secrets like Estelle, or hardly knew much about her, like Raven. If she had the room, she'd probably let Ba'ul sleep in her house, too.

Her stocking got caught on the corner of the coffee table, and in doing so she scattered the papers she'd left; she piled them up into another disorganized mess. Papers she didn't need, mail, junk mail... Raven whined a lot, too, but she was almost certain he was quieter when they were still trying to save the world.

It was still a weird thought to her. She helped _save the world_.

She almost felt like some kind of fairy tale super hero. Almost.

Rita bent down to grab the extra pens lying on the floor. Her house really was a bit of a mess, now that she thought about it. That never really bothered her before, though. Why did she think that now?

She paused. Maybe it was because her once-messy guest room was now clean (again) and organized with someone staying in it. Maybe not.

Maybe it was because she'd been losing things around the house a lot more recently. It had nothing to do with the fact that half her time was now taken up by a tall man in his late thirties living in her guest room whose sole purpose seemed to be a distraction to her.

Her sharpener wasn't here. Huh. Instead, she found her chessboard with her pieces. It had been a gift from Judith - a means to pass time when she visited the mage. Rita held them in her hands, contemplating.

Well, he _had_ been complaining about being bored all day...

x

Raven looked up, blinking blearily and half asleep with his face buried in the pillow as Rita entered the room, two glass cups balanced on a box like it was a tray. "Get up," she nudged him with a foot.

"Hn-wha?"

"Sit up. Here," she handed him a glass of water. He accepted it graciously, the ice cubes clinking as the cup passed from one pair of hands to another. "You said you're bored. I'm waiting for a shipment to come in from Dahngrest, and right now, progress on both my work and your blastia is at a standstill." Rita glanced over at the table; her diagrams were finished, of course. All she'd been doing was shading them in. "You can either sleep, or we can do this."

"Hmmm," Raven rubbed his chin thoughtfully, mind still foggy from the sleep. He rubbed his eyes and heaved a great yawn. "Rita the Great, the Antisocial, slackin' off to play a game o' chess with an old fogey like me?" When she opened her mouth to argue that she was _not_ slacking off, he grinned. "Why not? It's not every day that a miracle like this happens."

"Shove it," she flicked his forehead.

"You wound me, my dear!" he put a hand over his forehead. "Oh, the suffering my cruel landlady puts me through," he cried out melodramatically as she sat down in front of him, setting her own glass beside her. "Help! Someone! Anyone!"

"Stop that," she cuffed him with the box lid.

"Yes ma'am," he lamented, hunching over and peering into the box. "Did you know Repede can play chess?" Rita raised an eyebrow. "I'm serious! I played against him that year after the whole Adephagos shenanigan and he actually beat me."

"Right."

He pointed at her. "You were there! I swear! At the castle, remember?"

Rita stared blankly at him for a few seconds. "You mean that time when you were playing against Karol and Repede pushed him over and knocked over all your pieces?"

"Ye-no..." he mumbled.

"Right." she repeated a second time. She gave the box a shake, rattling the chess pieces. "Black or white?"

Raven shrugged. "Both."

"Pick, old man."

"Eeny meeny miny moe..." he ignored her when she reached up to scratch her collarbone. "... You pick for me."

"Okay," she shrugged and set up the board. Ice cubes clinked again when Raven raised the glass to his lips. She was wearing her blastia with the dead core again; one of her shoulders just lifted when he asked.

"Habit, I guess." She pushed her white pawn forward. "Your move, old man."

"After four years?" he nudged one of his own over.

"Yeah, so what?"

"Do you always wear it?"

She paused, letting a couple of turns pass by before answering. "... Not always. Sometimes."

Ohh, there went his sacrificial pawn. "Sometimes?"

Her eyes scanned the board. "Estelle and Judith gave me a few things for my birthday last year. Necklaces, ribbons, chokers, the like."

Ribbons, huh? "And you wear those?"

"Sometimes. Not all of them, just a few." Most of them were too gaudy, that was for sure. She glanced up at him and balked. "W-what? She gives me that _look_ when I wear this all the time, okay?"

"You don't really strike me as the jewelry wearin' type, hun. The blastia I can understand, cuz it's a blastia and yer attached to those, but..."

She blushed, getting defensive. "It feels empty without anything there, okay?" His damn knight was in the way.

An opening! There went her pawn. "Yeah, I getcha." he smiled. Feels empty without anything there, huh... "Does she do that often? Get you sparklin' thingamabobs?"

"Kind of, yeah." she mumbled. "I tell her not to and she does it anyway."

Raven chuckled. "Sounds like the princess. What does she get ya?"

"Things," she shrugged. "Bracelets and earrings, I guess."

That made him pause. "Are your ears even pierced, Rita?"

Black knight down. "Yeah. Didn't you know?"

Raven looked at her. "Not really, no. Then again, yer hair's always coverin' up your ears, now that I think about it."

"Yeah?" she brushed her hair aside. A small peridot stud winked in the light. "I had this one done when I was ten," she turned her head, "and this one after the Adephagos."

"At two different times? Why?" He was curious. He had honestly never noticed them before. "Did you always wear them?"

"Not always," her shoulder went up and down. "I usually forgot to take them out, though. The first one gave me an infection after a week because I hadn't cleaned it very well. Hurt like a bitch, that's for sure." Her bishop swept out and knocked down his other knight. "Don't laugh, okay?"

Why would he laugh? "I won't."

"I did the first one at home with a needle and some ice when I started studying to be a mage. Everyone in Aspio was either old or uptight; they didn't really give a rat's ass about me because I was only ten and I had no parents." He took a drink from his glass when she paused to look at his pieces. He could practically see the gears turning in her head. "I... wanted to be different from them, o-or at least, feel different from them, I guess."

"Different?" Raven questioned.

"Yeah," she answered. "You've probably seen them. Stiff old guys with sticks up their asses who didn't care for," she made quotation marks, "'sparklin' thingamabobs'."

"The guys at Zaphias seemed to have a thing for em, actually."

"That's because they wanted money and jewels," she scoffed. "I thought I'd be different from the rest and get this done. It's also..." she mumbled, "it's also sort of a mark of when I started my training, I-I guess."

Raven smiled. "Nothing wrong with that. Why the wait, though? You had one ear done, why not the other?" He sent out a bishop.

"I... wanted to get the second one done when people recognized me for my work - when they would look at me and see a researcher, and not a child." Or a _freak_. "I almost did it when some of the researchers started recognizing me, but it's just, that was it. It wasn't my _work_, which was at the time the same as everyone else's. It was because I was young and had caught up to them." Rita shifted. Her foot was falling asleep and her nose was starting to run. "I wanted them to recognize my _work_, not what I _was_. _Child prodigy_, blah blah blah." She rubbed at her nose. The prodigy part had come before _and_ after she was a _freak_, but he really didn't need to know about that.

(On another note, he... didn't really need to know any of this either.)

How long had they ridiculed her for her passion for blastia? _They_ had never been cast aside, metaphorically (and possibly literally; her memory is a little foggy when it comes to a certain point of her childhood) stomped on, and left alone.

"And that didn't happen until after the whole 'savin' the world' thing?" he questioned. She licked her lips, then lifted her glass to drink.

"Well, no, remember when the council in Aspio gave me my custom made robes?" Raven nodded. "It was around that time that it really started, but I thought it would be pointless to pierce the other ear if we couldn't stop the Adephagos, first. It... sounds dumb, I know." Why was she telling him this, anyway? "Don't laugh. Just- just forget I said anything, alright?"

Raven smiled. "Nah, I don't see anything wrong with it. Nothin' ta laugh about, Rita. In fact, it's kinda admirable, with you just bein' a kid and all when you got your life together."

"Got my life together," she sniffed. "That's a good one. I'm still running around trying to figure everything out, old man."

"Well hey, you've got a job, plenty a' money, a house, a name for yourself and a real live fanbase. That's more than I can say for some - lots of people. All ya need ta do now is find a good husband and pop out a coupla youngin's. Actually, lotta' girls yer age get married, you know?" He was hoping his grin didn't look weird. "How about the commandant? I'm sure you and him can get along. Or even his majesty Ioder himself? Fancy bein' royalty?" he suggested.

Rita made a disgusted face at him and rubbed at her nose with her sleeve. "No thanks. I don't plan on any of that stuff at all, old man."

"Come on now, are we still in the 'boys have cooties' phase?" he teased. "You can probably find a good husband your age to take good care of ya. I bet lots of em would be willing to grab a chance to have the hand of Rita the Saviour." Check.

Not on her watch. There went his bishop. "No, thanks. I can take care of myself just fine." How had their conversation gone from ear piercings to boys and marriage? "Why aren't you married, old man?" Ignoring the fact that he was an utter idiot, "From what I remember, you had a lot of girls coming after you in Dahngrest."

"Remember my little heart issue, Rita? Yeah. They'd freak out. I ain't lettin' any of em near this thing." He tapped his blastia core.

She almost felt... relieved? No, that wasn't it. It was a different type of feeling. "Or they could be like me and be fine with it."

Raven sighed. "You're different from most girls, Rita. But thanks for the offer," he smirked.

Rita blushed and stammered. "I- that's not what I meant, idiot!" She chucked a dead pawn at him. There was a prickly feeling in her chest.

Raven laughed as he dodged the piece. "If ya can't fight the charm, honey-"

"Shut up!"

"Help! An elderly man is bein' abused here!"

"You're not even that old!" she yelled.

He jabbed a thumb into his chest. "I'm twice yer age, hun. Pretty old, if I may say so for myself."

Rita scoffed. "Yeah, so what? In dog years, Repede is older than you."

"Comparing me to a dog? Ouch," Raven winced. "No offense, Repede." As if the dog could hear him; Yuri and Repede were in Dahngrest!

She told him just so. "You never know, hun. A canine like that can probably hear from half way across the world."

She just shook her head at him and took another drink from her glass.

Raven looked at Rita in alarm when she suddenly hunched over, coughing violently. She put the cup down roughly, liquid sloshing onto her black sleeves and the floor, and coughed into her arm.

"Easy, easy now, Rita." He was at her side in an instant, rubbing circles into her back. Hadn't this happened a few days ago, too? "Don't go choking on ice now; did the water go down the wrong pipe? Easy, just breathe."

Rita tried to push him away. "It's just," she coughed, "just the water, old man. I'm fine." Another cough, and then a set of deep breaths.

"Okay, okay," he let her push him away. "Let me get you some more water," he picked up her now-empty glass and got to his feet. "Just don't choke on it this time, and it should feel better, okay?"

He winked and dodged out of the way when she tried to take a swipe at his leg. Rita waited until the door was shut, then stretched to reach for the tissue box nearby. She tried to dry her sleeve, but when she pulled it away, it was flecked with red and pink. There was a faint, coppery taste in her mouth.

It hadn't been the water; it had just touched her lips when the prickly feeling in her chest came back.

She balled her tissue up with more tissues and tossed it in the trash, then pulled the end of her rug over to mop up the spilled liquid. It was going to dry eventually, anyway...

The door opened. "Whew! You nearly gave this man a heart attack, Rita darlin'." She took the cup graciously and drank slowly. "Reminded me a little bit of the old days myself..."

She looked up at him speculatively. "'Old days'?"

Raven nodded and sat down. "I haven't told ya all the icky bits about having this thing put in."

She glared at him. "I thought you were supposed to tell me everything about your procedure."

He held his hands up in defense. "I did, really! It's just the little... side effects, of having a blastia replace your heart and your body not knowing what ta do with it. Don'tcha remember? You told me ya didn't need to hear it last time."

"Did your body reject it at first?" Rita asked curiously, shaking her head.

"I told you a while ago that it didn't, remember?" Crossing her arms, she nodded; that she remembered. "You've never actually needed to completely open me up, anyway, since all you've been doing is rewriting my thingamabob."

"Yeah, and if I haven't been doing that, you'd probably be dead right now." Another glare.

"Yeah, I know." He pet her on the head. "See, it mostly hurt after the initial installation. Burned like both ice and fire at the same time, especially when they cracked this guy open. I gotta tell ya, it ain't a pleasant feeling. 'Course, heart failures were apparently no biggie to those guys, and no one seemed ta think that poor ol' Raven might need an extra dose of painkillers or three."

"Heart failures?" Her interest was piqued. So was her concern. "You needed extra anesthesia? Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"It was in the past, Rita." he shook his head. "No infections. Fevers burned them all away, and those guys were able to keep me clean enough to keep em at bay. I never told you because it didn't matter."

In all honesty, he just hadn't wanted to remember the pain. His chest gave a twinge.

It seemed irrelevant enough, anyway.

"How is it irrelevant? Tell me." she demanded.

Raven scratched his cheek. Had he said that out loud? Huh.

She held her glass of water in his direction, motioning for him to continue. "Were you in any pain that you didn't tell me about when I opened up your blastia? Or when I changed its configurations?"

Raven's eyes darted away for a quick half-second. "No pain, darlin'-"

It was enough for Rita to read into. She reached over and yanked on his coat, the action knocking over the pieces of their forgotten game of chess. "_Don't lie_," she hissed. "When does it hurt?"

"When ya hit me, dearest-" she tugged again. "Okay, okay! Sometimes, when ya try to 'reconfigure' my whatsamawhozits, and plug in some of your conversion formulas. Feels a little," he hesitated, just barely, just enough, "... prickly, like pins and needles. Hardly hurts."

There was worry behind the anger in her eyes. Most of that anger was at herself; the rest at him for not telling her. "You're lying." she stated.

He was, and apparently he's been terrible at it lately. "I'm not-"

"You _are_." she shook him once. "If it _hardly hurts_, you'd be whining every time it happened." Another shake. "_Tell me._"

Raven sighed. There was just no way of getting out of this, was there? "Alright, alright, just, lemme go, will ya?" He smoothed out his collar when she did, then hesitantly spoke. "Sometimes, it feels kinda like fire... Maybe a little more like being set on fire, only it's not my whole body. Just - here in general." He motioned around his chest. "That's when you change up the programs. When ya add in yer own stuff, it almost feels like... like a dagger's goin' through me." He jabbed at his blastia with his thumb.

Rita's knuckles were white. "This happens... every time?" she uttered.

"Not every time," he tried to reassure. "Only sometimes. Maybe occasionally - rarely? Look, I know you're feelin' guilty, Rita, but it's okay. Really."

"It's not supposed to _hurt_," she said quietly. She was so... so _angry_. Angry at herself for not realizing. For not even asking in the first place. "You should have told me, old man. I-I'm doing something wrong, and that means I need to fix what it is before I accidentally _kill_ you, a-and you should have told me _sooner_."

Her hands were shaking, just barely. "Listen, Rita," he put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't think there's much you can do to make it _not_ hurt. Livin' with this thing comes at a price, and, well, if it means I got a purpose while I'm alive, I don't mind."

Rita slumped over, rubbing her forehead. "I'll fix it," she had something to think about. Almost as an after thought, she added, "... Sorry."

"Whoa, there, what's gotten into you lately? You don't usually apologize so much in the span of a few days, darlin'."

Rita shook her head, glaring at him, through him, at nothing in particular. "I'll fix it. Or maybe I'll just put you to sleep next time, so you don't feel anything."

"Uh-uh. I gotta stay awake when the doc works, remember?" Raven cracked a half-smile in attempt to lighten the mood. "It'll be alright, Rita."

She rubbed her forehead. "I said I'll fix it, so I'm going to fix it."

Clearly, he wasn't going to get past the mage's stubbornness. "Alright, okay. You'll fix it for sure. I know you will." He reassured her. "I don't doubt it, but you really don't have t-"

"Shut up. Just, shut up, okay? Don't tell me I don't have to. I may hit you all the time, but that doesn't mean _this _is supposed to hurt." At least, in theory, considering the only other person who had lived with an implemented blastia her died by her - _their_ hands.

Raven looked at her for a good few seconds, then smiled. "It'll be fine, Rita. Don't beat yourself up over it, okay?"

Reluctantly, Rita averted her gaze and nodded. Right now, this wasn't an argument she wasn't going to win. _But I've been doing something wrong the entire time..._ "Yeah. I can fix it. I-it'll be fine."

But for how long?

* * *

><p>AN: To start this off: hi. How are you?

To start this off properly: sorry it's been more than a year. I have realized that I'd just kept putting it off over and over again, and, well, I'm sorry. I could blame everything from school to lack of inspiration to work, but I think it's mostly just that I'm rather lazy.

I feel a little bit _out of touch_ with my sort of take on Raven and Rita as characters, mostly because it's been such a while since I've properly returned to the Vesperia world. It may also be due to the length of time I have given them between the end of the game and the start of this story, because I feel some of the information I've written here would definitely have been gone over say, two years ago. But alas, when I had this story I just went and jumped headfirst into it without the entire storyboard laid out first.

Chances are I'll either leave it or rewrite a few things here and there in the future. Most likely I'll just keep as is and try to touch up any chapters if I need to.

Thanks for everything, guys. :) Hopefully I won't take a year and a few months for the next chapter to come along...


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